


The Royal Romance - Moments In-between

by Certainlittlesmile



Series: The Beaumont-Jones Chronicles [1]
Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Absent Parents, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Italy, Kissing, Laughter, Limousines, Marriage Proposal, New York City, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Royalty, Waltzing, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-04-03 20:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 34,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21629404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Certainlittlesmile/pseuds/Certainlittlesmile
Summary: The plan was simple. Maxwell brings Jen to Cordonia. Jen marries a Prince, Maxwell saves his family from financial ruin.But things didn't go to plan.*IMPORTANT - These are not my characters, and some dialogue and events are not mine.. but I like to fill the gaps*
Relationships: Maxwell Beaumont/Main Character (The Royal Romance)
Series: The Beaumont-Jones Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641181
Comments: 24
Kudos: 33





	1. This brave romantic feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment is from the very beginning of the story, before Book 1, Chapter 1 begins.

She woke up at about ten in the morning, in her tiny little room in an apartment she was sharing with another girl. It was Saturday, and she knew she always got in the way on Saturday mornings, as Anita liked to have a good tidy up, and technically it was Anita's apartment. So, she'd started getting into the routine of keeping out of Anita's way until midday, just lying in bed, scrolling through social media. Although, these days, it got more and more depressing. The friends who hadn't blocked her were generally having much more fun than she was. Out at the weekends, good jobs during the week, some were starting to settle down with pets and kids (oh, there were a lot of cute pictures to go through).

But what did Jen Jones have to share with the world today? Very little.

She got up, and looked out of her apartment window. Her favourite view – the New York skyline. She never tired of it. People came from all over the world to see it, and she'd always dreamed of living amongst it. She'd been here six years now, and although life hadn't always been this dull, she felt a romance, an energy about this place. Anything was possible. She had this brave romantic feeling that she would fall in love here; meet the man of her dreams and kiss him under the stars amongst the bright lights of this city. He'd be charming, witty, devilishly handsome, and totally and utterly in love with her, as she would be with him. He'd make her laugh every day, and make all her wishes come true. Yes, _all_ of them. Even _those _ones.

But, even though he _had_ to be out there somewhere, she probably wasn't going to meet him today.

She sighed as she opened her wardrobe. Her work uniform was hanging up. It really wasn't the most flattering, and for the last year or so she'd taken to changing into it when she'd arrived at work, just in case she bumped into that perfect stranger on the way to or from the bar. It was late March now, and as she was hardened to New York winters a light jacket would probably do, luckily she had her little leather number to wear over her chosen outfit.

She got out of bed and tidied herself up, brushing her short dark boyish curls into something that resembled a hairstyle. She really wanted to grow her hair long, she remembered the voluminous bob she'd had as a teenager, but it was much easier for work to keep it short. One day.

Before she headed off to shower, she tried calling Erica. No answer. Probably lounging in bed with Greg. No worries. She'd call her tonight after her shift. Hopefully she'd be done by about ten. It wasn't as if she was likely to get any social invitations tonight. 


	2. Not known for his tact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment is from Book 1, Chapter 1, as the bachelor party and Jen head to the club.

They all set off walking, Jen leading the way, Rick walking semi-protectively next to her, the other three trailing behind them.

She glanced across at Rick, rather impressed with his chivalry so far, not to mention his stunningly handsome looks. He was tall and she got the impression he was strong. She wondered what he did for a living. Fireman? Security guard? He was imposing enough.

“Have you lived in New York for long?” he asked her.

“About six, seven years,” she explained. “It’s a beautiful city.”

“It is. There’s so much to see and do here,” he said contemplatively. “It’s a terrible shame we are leaving tomorrow. I’m going to do everything I can to engineer another opportunity to come back as soon as I can, see a little more of it.”

“Oh really? You’ll have to let me know when you do. I’ll have to give you my number or something.”

He looked distant. “Perhaps.”

There was a tap on his shoulder, and they both turned to see one of his friends (the cute one who had just declared to them all that he thought Jen looked hot) trying to get their attention.

“Hey. Rick. Jen.”

Rick sighed. “What is it?”

His friend bounded forwards and inbetween Rick and Jen. “Hey, Jen. I’m sorry if we got off on a bad foot. I mean, I didn’t _mean_ to flick that pea at you, I was just curious to see how far I could get one to go…”

She smiled slyly. She’d had hyperactive customers in her time, but this one was going to stick in her mind for a while. “Well, I think your curiosity was rewarded in spades. I thought it was quite an impressive move.”

“You did? Ohmygod, I thought you hated me! Especially after the cutlery juggling incident nearly went so badly wrong! That’s why I was trying to big you up back there.. it’s just… maybe I didn’t get it quite right.” He held out a hand. “Maxwell Beaumont.”

“Jen Jones,” she replied politely. “Very pleased to meet you. And, good name!”

“Thank you,” he said proudly.

“Maxwell’s clearly a little excited at the prospect of going to _another_ club,” Rick commented.

“Oh you have no idea. And I’ve heard all about Kismet. I mean, there are clubs and there are _clubs. _And this is a club!” He was hopping from foot to foot with excitement. “The dance floor is meant to be huge!”

“It is,” Jen agreed. She’d worked there once, and still knew the people at Kismet well enough to know she could get them in for free, which was no doubt going to impress Rick. “You gonna hit it?”

He looked at her in confusion. “You know, it’s always super weird when I meet someone for the first time and they don’t know me…”

She cocked her head. “How so?”

“Because if you knew me, that wouldn’t be a question you’d need to ask. Of _course_ I’m gonna hit it! And I’m gonna show the whole of NYC all my world renowned sweet dance moves..” He started to groove as they were walking. “The Maxwell special is gonna be in the house!!”

She laughed carefreely at his sheer playfulness. “I look forward to it.”

“You better believe it..”

“Maxwell…” There was a call from behind them, coming from the dark haired, irritable looking man who’d been less than complimentary about the idea of her coming along. “Get back here.”

“Hey, I’m just introducing myself to our new friend, Drake…”

“And you’ve done it now. So get back here.”

“Aww..” He looked back at Jen. “I’ll catch you on the dance floor then?”

“We’ll see,” she said with a sweet smile in his direction. His blue eyes twinkled back at her, before he fell back in line with Drake and Rick’s other friend.

Rick leant into her. “He’s not known for his tact, that one,” he muttered.

“Known for his sweet dance moves though, apparently,” she chuckled.


	3. The idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment is from Book 1, Chapter 1, after Jen's date with Rick at the Statue of Liberty.

The idea came to Maxwell in the small hours of the morning, he was far too pumped to sleep and had laid awake for hours thinking non-stop about that beautiful, amazing girl that he had just met. Her smile, her laugh, her black curls that framed her pretty face. Naturally, she'd been far too preoccupied with Rick to have much in the way of conversation with the rest of the group, but he had managed to chat to her a few wonderful times during the course of the night, and found her to be friendly, funny and charming. As well as stunning. In fact, Jen was nothing short of perfect. And Rick had clearly shared his opinion.

And as he lay awake he thought about how obvious it was that Rick and Jen were super-attracted to each other at first sight, and how sad it was that they'd never meet again, and that Jen would now have to go back to her waitressing job and carry on her life as if she'd never met this foreign prince who'd swept her off her feet (along with his handsome sidekick and his amazing dance moves, naturally) and Rick would have to get back on that plane with the Royal Guard in the morning (well, probably about now actually) to fly back to Cordonia in time to prepare to meet the lines of prospective brides from each of the Cordonian noble houses. Well, _most_ of the Cordonian noble houses anyway.

And with that his thoughts turned to Bertrand, and how Bertrand had assigned him to find a suitable young lady that House Beaumont could sponsor as part of the process, and how important it was that he found someone extraordinary... and how he'd put it off and put it off, and now, with less than forty-eight hours to go.. he really had no hope, so, once again, he was going to be nothing but a disappointment to the name of House Beaumont..

Wait. What if..?

Maxwell had just had the best idea he would ever have in his life.


	4. A suitable young lady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment is set during book 1, chapter 4, just after Bertrand has met Jen for the first time)

Before knocking on his friend's door, he put an ear to it to gauge the situation. He could hear the stern voice of Bertrand, presumably chastising Maxwell over something. He knocked firmly on the door.

Maxwell answered. "Rick, please, come on in.."

Bertrand stood up from the chair on which he had been seated. "Do have a seat, Your Highness. I was about to retire to my room. An excellent Masquerade."

"Thank you, Bertrand," Rick said, sitting down as Bertrand retreated. "I just need a quick word with your brother before retiring myself. It has been an eventful evening."

"Indeed, Your Highness. Goodnight, Maxwell."

"Night, Bertrand," called Maxwell as Bertrand left the room. "Whew. Your timing is impeccable. I was getting the dressing down to end all dressing downs there.."

"Whatever for?"

Maxwell looked at him mischievously. "_You brought a waitress?"_

Rick roared with laughter. "Oh, Maxwell. You really have started something here."

"That was the intention, Rick. I thought you'd be thrilled.."

"Oh, I am. I just wish I'd thought of it myself."

"I had the idea in the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep. I went back to the bar the next morning to find her, and I managed to sell the idea to her somehow.."

"I am so glad you did, Maxwell. Please reassure the Duke of Ramsford that your house could not have put forward a more suitable young lady in my opinion."

Maxwell shrugged. "Ah, you know, I just saw you two together and you looked.. right. Like you belonged together." He looked a little distant for a minute, then refocussed. "She'll make the best Queen, don't you think?"

Rick stood up and put his hand on Maxwell's shoulder. "You should know by now how this process works. It's not always as simple as looking right together. Cordonia expects a lot from her future Queen. But, I think it's safe to say that I will enjoy the process a lot more due to Lady Jen's involvement."

He went to the door, and smiled fondly at Maxwell. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," said Maxwell, looking at the floor. "Goodnight, Rick."

Rick nodded and left the room, looking over the corridor towards Lady Jen's room. He was sorely tempted to knock on the door, but knew it would be a step too far tonight, especially after their encounter in the maze earlier. He was still a little bemused that she'd pulled away when he'd meant to kiss her. He didn't want to come on too strong and scare her off. He touched the door gently, then headed back to his private quarters. He'd been dreading coming back and the start of this tedious process. But now, he was excited for what tomorrow would bring.


	5. Her Mr Brightside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment is set at the beginning of Book 1, Chapter 6 when Jen, Maxwell and Bertrand are on their way to the Queen's tea party.
> 
> Mr Brightside lyrics by Brandon Flowers / Dave Keuning / Mark Stoermer / Ronnie Vannucci Jr

Jen slid into the limo, sitting next to Maxwell. “I hope you had a good time,” he said gently.

She smiled at him. “It was..“

“Enough pleasantries,” interrupted Bertrand. “We only have time for business. First of all, was that Lady Hana Lee I saw you with before we pulled up? You two looked friendly.”

Jen looked at Maxwell, and then back at Bertrand. “Yes. Hana and I are.. becoming friends.”

“Hmm.. interesting,” Bertrand said. “An alliance with her family isn’t the _worst_ thing as long as you don’t let it distract you from your pursuit of the Prince. In any case, your focus today should be on impressing the Queen. She holds more sway than anyone else at court.”

“Even more than the King?” Jen asked.

“Socially, yes. Don’t underestimate her. Thankfully you heeded my recommendation to wear something modern. That’ll curry her favour.”

Maxwell laughed. “Yeah, that’ll help, but more than that.. you need to get her to like you!”

Jen laughed too. “If I’m going to get her to like me, tell me what she likes, and what she hates.”

Maxwell pondered for a second. “The Queen enjoys fashion, and likes a woman with grace and style. She’s quite wary of ladies who were not born in Cordonia, so you should watch your step there,” he stated. “But I’m sure your natural charm will win her over.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence..”

“The Queen hates it when royal protocol isn’t followed,” Bertrand added. “You should call her Your Majesty when you first meet her and Ma’am thereafter. Etiquette wise, don’t forget that you must always stay a step or two behind her when keeping company with her.”

“Oh! She also loves to play games, and can be quite competitive,” Maxwell went on. “And I know you have a great sense of humour Jen..”

“Thank you..”

“But the Queen doesn’t!” Maxwell grinned at her. “So if you only have something snarky to say..” 

She smiled. He was getting to know her well.

“_Don’t_,” Bertrand cut him off. “Ultimately, she’s concerned about how the Prince’s bride will be partly responsible for Cordonia’s future. Keep that in mind when talking to her.”

“Got it,” Jen said, nodding.

“I hope you have,” Bertrand said, firmly. “You might have performed well with the press, but remember Jen, it only takes one slip-up to tear apart the reputation you’ve built.”

Just then, the radio started playing a song that Jen recognised very well. “Aw… I love this song!!”

“Me too!” Maxwell stood up. “I’m gonna get the driver to turn up the volume!”

“How could you not to Mr Brightside?” Jen declared.

Bertrand frowned. “I would have hoped you would have rather take the opportunity for me to impart some more advice upon you with respect to this afternoon’s…”

But now the music was at full volume, and Maxwell returned with a grin. “JEALOUSY!!”

Jen was jumping about on her seat. “TURNING SAINTS INTO THE SEA!”

They were in chorus themselves now as they chanted the entire chorus of the song and danced along on their seats. Bertrand just looked on in disapproval.

“DESTINY IS CALLING ME, OPEN UP MY EAGER EYES…”

Maxwell was standing up now, unable to resist the call to dance. “I’M MR BRIGHTSIDE.”

She loved it, he really was her Mr Brightside at the moment too, and she swayed to the music, hands dancing along as she watched him go for it. Bertrand stood up, moving out of the line of fire of Maxwell’s elbows. Maxwell sat down again and shimmied across the seat to Jen.

“It started off with a kiss, how did it end up like this?”

“It was only a kiss,” she answered.

His eyes were sparkling. “It was only a kiss!” 

The music stopped.

“Awwwww?” they chorused.

Bertrand returned to his seat, having come from the direction of the driver’s hatch. “From now on, we drive in _silence_.”

Jen looked sympathetically at Maxwell, who was more than a little deflated. Why did Bertrand always have to spoil his fun?

“I would remind you that we are on our way to a tea party with the Queen,” he said in response to her silent question. “We have no time or energy to waste with this frivolity.”

He turned away, and Jen stuck out her tongue in Bertrand’s direction. She didn’t dare look at Maxwell’s face, but she heard his futile attempts to mute his laughter.


	6. In good company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place at the start of Book 1, Chapter 7, just before Jen and Maxwell arrive in Lythikos.

They’d been on the road for about an hour now, and he was starting to feel quite nervous. Bertrand wasn’t with them, apparently he had some pressing House business to attend to.They’d obviously be meeting up with the others once they got there, but the others all had their own transport sorted. So, for the three hour journey to Lythikos, it was just the two of them in the limo. He’d been secretly ecstatic about this prospect to start with, but now, an hour in, his enthusiasm levels had dropped.

Her normal sparkle was missing, His attempts at light and fluffy conversation had been met with short answers. She just looked so sad; staring out of the limo’s rolled down window as they headed further away from the sunny Cordonian capital and into the higher, cooler terrain of the northern part of the country, where Lythikos Keep sat, still a couple of hours drive away.

He couldn’t take it anymore. “Jen, you can smile you know.. hey, my company’s not _that _bad…is it?”

She huffed out a sigh, and turned to face him. “No, Maxwell. It’s not your company that’s bothering me. Trust me, if it was, I’d tell you.”

“Phew. And there I was, thinking you secretly couldn’t stand me.”

She smiled. “Nah. That’s definitely not the case.”

“So, what’s up? C’mon, you can tell me. I won’t spill. We’re in this together now, yeah?”

“You know what’s up. I’ve got to spend the next few days watching that _awful _Olivia lording it around like she’s already Queen. She hates me, she hates Hana, and she’ll be all over Rick like a rash, I can just see it now.”

“She hates me too, so you’re in good company.”

“Really?” She looked at him, her face a little perplexed.

“Of course she hates me. Not gonna lie, I’m a little bit scared of her. But, you’re not, are you?”

“Absolutely not. She’s a bully, and bullies don’t scare me. Not anymore.” She looked a little far away for a second, and he could sense a little sadness in her past that made him feel a little sad himself. “You have to break the cycle. And I’m gonna break _her_ if she messes with me or Hana.”

_Gulp. _He knew Jen was fierce, it was one of the traits that really drew him to her. But every now and then she came out with something from the blue like that, that made him quiver. With fear? If he was honest, no… it was a bit of a turn-on.

_Get it together Beaumont. _

She tapped her hand on his knee briefly. “Hey, you okay?”

“Me? I’m fine and dandy!” He was composed now. “I reckon we need to take your mind off things a bit. Think of a game we can play while we’re stuck in here. Obviously, Bertrand’s not really an advocate of that sorta thing, so we should make the most of it!”

“Ooh, I’ve got one.” She seemed to come to life. “We should play the name game. I used to play it with my mom and dad on car journeys!”

“How do you play it?”

“You have to think of a name beginning with A, then I think of one beginning with B… and we go on from there, and we keep going.. until one of us can’t get one!”

“Hmm. Does it have to be someone we know?”

“No it doesn’t have to be. But it’s funnier if it is.” She cocked her eyebrow. “Let’s say it has to be someone we know, and if it is someone we both know, you have to say a fact about them.”

“Right! I’ve got this. I’m starting. Aaaaaaaa….” But he could only think of one person. “Adelaide?”

He clearly hadn’t been able to hide the awkwardness, as Jen’s eyes flared. “Who’s Adelaide?”

“Oh you don’t know her, Jen.” _And hopefully you never will!_

“No, you’re not getting away with that.” She giggled. “I can tell from your face this is an ex girlfriend..”

_Shiiiit. _“Uhhh, definitely not!”

She raised her eyebrows. “Riiight. Okay. B is for Bertrand.”

“Fact about Bertrand please? I know him.”

“What would I know about Bertrand that you don’t?”

“You added that stupid rule, Jen…”

She pulled a face. She still looked cute though. “Uh… that he hates me?”

“He doesn’t hate you, Jen. Or, if he does, he won’t soon. You’ll grow on him. I know you will. Have courage!”

She giggled. “Your turn. C.”

“Constantine.”

“Fact?”

“He and my dad used to be really good friends.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Dad was one of his _advisers._” _Before he got sick._

She nodded. “Impressive. Right. My turn. Drake.”

“Fact?”

“I think he was following me the other day. At the Derby. It creeped me out a bit.”

Maxwell sighed. He’d known Drake for a long time, and although they’d drifted apart in recent years, he could still tell when Drake was interested in someone. And he’d been very interested in someone over the last week or so.

“He said that Rick told him to, to make sure I was alright. Because _someone_ didn’t give me the right directions to find where I was going…”

“Yes, alright, alright, I’ve had all this from Bertrand already. Okay, my turn. Ezekiel.”

“Who’s that?”

“Kiara’s brother.”

“Ah right. F…..”

He pulled a face at her, hoping to put her off.

“F off, Maxwell!” She giggled, batting him away. “I can’t think of anyone I know whose name starts with F.”

“You concede defeat?”

“Never!”

“Think, Jen!!”

“F….. Oh! Felicity.”

“Who’s Felicity?”

“This awful girl I was in… er… went to school with. She kinda reminds me a bit of….Olivia….”

And with that they were back to the start of the conversation, and her face was painfully sad again.

“Hey. It’ll be okay.”

She let her head rest on his shoulder, and he took a couple of deep breaths and relaxed into it.

“I mean, no matter how awful Olivia is, Rick’s never gonna choose her ahead of you. I know exactly what he thinks of you.” _Pretty much the same that I do. _“He thinks you’re beautiful, he thinks you’re smart, he thinks you’re totally hot… I know he wants to marry you, Jen.”

Her eyes shot up in the direction of his. “Really?”

Yeah, okay, maybe he was talking about himself in the third person here. “Really. I know he does. And I know it’s early days, but I..” _Careful. ”_He could well be falling in love with you, I reckon.”

She smiled, and nodded. “Good. I think I could feel like that about him too.”

“Good to know.”

There was a bit more of a comfortable silence now, as she let her head flop back against his shoulder for a couple of seconds, before lifting it again to gaze out of the limo window again, seemingly a little more contented.

Well, his work here was done.


	7. The morning after the Cordonian Waltz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during book 1, chapter 8, the morning after the Lythikos ball.

"Good morning," he said to her with a beam as she answered the door, trying to hide his nerves.

She looked back at him with an expression that said it all.

"Feeling a little delicate, are we?" he said with a laugh.

"Ugh," she said with a nod. "Listen Maxwell.. I.."

"Sorry I lost you last night," he explained, "But one minute you were talking to Kiara, then I got talking to Drake and Hana, and next time I looked, you were nowhere to be seen. Were you okay?"

"I can't remember," she said, laughing.

"What can you remember?" he asked, curiously.

"I can remember... that Olivia kissed Rick, that's a picture that must have stuck in my alcohol-addled brain," she said, slowly.

"That happened while we were dancing the Cordonian Waltz.." he said, looking at her, feeling as ill as she looked. "Do you remember anything else.. about.. that?"

She smiled, and shook her head. "Nope. Not a thing. I'm sorry, Maxwell. What an embarrassment. That's the last time I'm drinking before I start eating. It was alright for you, up at the top table, you had your dessert course before we even got our cold starters.."

He smiled. "Yeah, Drake and Hana said much the same. Well, as long as you're okay. I think you managed not to embarrass yourself _too_ badly."

She rolled her eyes. "Good job Bertrand's not here.."

He laughed. "We'd both be on the naughty step, wouldn't we?"

She laughed, and he relished the sight of her smile.

"Well, I'll see you in a bit. Everyone's getting ready. It's the Royal Regatta tomorrow, so we're needed back at the royal palace tonight."

"The Royal Regatta?"

"That's the ceremonial boat race. Your next big event! You've been to a regatta before, right?"

"Err.."

"Never mind. I'll talk you through it later. Get yourself ready and packed."

"Okay."

She shut the door slowly, and he sighed. He'd known she'd been a little tipsy, but clearly that had been an underestimation. He had to forget about what she'd said to him. She obviously couldn't even remember saying it. Probably for the best.

He headed back to his room, closed the door, and ran his hands over his face. He hadn't slept a wink last night, just reliving that moment again and again, thinking of the different ways he could have reacted to it. That one.. stupid. That one... even more stupid. That one... don't even think about that one. He'd said the only thing he could, considering. But that didn't make him feel any better right now. 


	8. A little slice of paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment occurs at the beginning of Book 1, Chapter 10, as the friends move from the regatta to the beach.

"Sounds like you two had a blast," Maxwell said as he, Jen and Hana walked along the docks a little later, Jen having just relayed to him the tale of their champagne battle. "I wish I'd known you were having a boat party, Hana, I'd have been there! I knew Olivia was having one.."

Jen cringed. "Yeah, and I nearly had to endure that. Can you imagine, all the snidey snide comments I'd have got? I'd probably have ended up grabbing one of the anchors off the boat and hitting her over the head with it." She used her arms to illustrate her point beautifully.

"You dodged a bullet there," Maxwell agreed. "So, are you ready for the best bit about today.. the beach extravaganza?"

"I think so.." she said, and her expression changed. "Why? Is there something I should have prepped? Will the press be there?"

"Nope!" he reassured her. "It's just a fun party, on one of the most gorgeous beaches in the area... nearly there, can you see that path, just a bit further up now.. that leads to it. It's _completely _private, so there's a bit of a walk down to it." Other than this annual event, he'd been down here with Rick and Drake quite a lot. Man, he loved this beach.

"That sounds amazing," Hana chirped, "And look, the water's so unbelievably beautiful today. I can't wait to get out of this dress and into my bikini!"

Bikini... For a second, he had some wonderful thoughts about Jen in a bikini, and then it hit him. "I knew I was forgetting something! Jen, you didn't happen to bring a swimsuit, did you?" Please say yes. Please say yes.

"Erm, nope."

"Oh, well," he said. Probably for the best, really.

They reached the gate; today it was open, and a member of the King's Guards checked their names off a list. "Normally this is locked," he explained. "There's a combo lock on the gate. I've begged Rick so many times to let me know what the combination is, but so far I've had no luck trying to work it out for myself."

Jen shot him a playful look. "You really like this place, don't you?"

"You'll see why in a minute. Although it's great when it's full of people, it's even better when you've practically got it to yourself."

"I can smell something nice," Hana commented, as they headed down the path. "Mmm. I hadn't realised how hungry I was."

His own stomach rumbled. "Hungry work, all that boat racing. We need some fuel so we can paaarty!"

"So what were you up to while we were on Hana's yacht earlier?" Jen asked him.

"This and that, few errands for Bertrand, you know.." He wasn't sure what they would think of what he _had_ been doing, as even he thought it was a little dumb, but if things worked out it could turn out to have been worth all the effort. "I'd rather have been partying with you two.. still, at least I get to do that now!"

"Oh wow, this is beautiful," Hana said, as the path wound around and brought them to the private beach, where a good number of invited guests were mingling and relaxing.

"Yep. It's a little slice of paradise." As Maxwell was well aware, the beach wasn't visible at all from the rest of the seafront, so the girls had only seen it now that they were here. He loved it here because he could totally relax. Although, maybe not _totally _today. But, today was still going to be fuuuuun. 


	9. Ridiculous fantasies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment happens during Book 1, Chapter 13, during the hunt scene, just before Jen falls back to talk to Maxwell.

Maxwell had been watching her carefully from the back of the line of riders for some time. First she'd been some way ahead of him, mixing with the royal family; then she'd been chatting with the other suitors, right now she was not too far in front of him, riding next to Drake. They seemed to be getting on a little too well for his liking.

He was hoping she might fall back a little further so that he could catch a few moments with her. That was all, he knew it was silly but he was still reliving their dance floor antics from a few nights ago; although he knew there was nothing to it and things seemed to be going better for her now with Rick. He couldn't help it, though. If things were different.. but they weren't different.

He was aroused from his ponderings by the sound of his brother's voice. "Maxwell.. a word." Great. He was in trouble for something.

"Bertrand," he sighed.

Bertrand was silent for a long moment, as he rode beside him. "You must think I'm stupid, not to have noticed what's going on here."

"I.. what?" Had he found out? This was bad. This was very bad. How would Bertrand react to the fact that he had kept this massive secret from him?

"Lady Jen," Bertrand stated.

Maxwell was relieved for a second, relaxing into the saddle. Bertrand hadn't found out what he thought he had found out. But wait, what _had_ he found out? He sat up again. "What about her..?"

"You haven't taken your eyes off her all morning," he stated. "What is wrong with you?"

"Bertrand.." he stammered, "I don't know what you.."

"There is _no way_ she would look at you," Bertrand said, menacingly, "When she has the chance of becoming Rick's queen. And as you keep telling me, they have such a special connection.."

"They do!" protested Maxwell.

Bertrand nodded. "Well, in that case, you need to stop with the misty eyes and brooding stares. Nothing good will come of it, for you, for her, for anyone. Remember what is at stake here. She needs to be fully focussed on Rick; she shouldn't have to waste her energy on rebutting your pathetic advances. Keep your ridiculous fantasies to yourself. Because that is all they are. Ridiculous."

Maxwell was used to Bertrand's cruel words, but this stung. He hardly even noticed when Jen's horse slowed so that she was riding alongside them.

"Do I make myself clear?" hissed Bertrand.

"Yeah," he said, sadly.

Bertrand rode ahead, so that Jen and Maxwell were alone at the back of the group.

Jen looked across at him, concern in her eyes. "What was that about?"

He put on a fake smile. "Oh, you know, estate things, the consequences of failure and eternal ruination of our family name and fortune.."

"Oh.." she said, sadly.

"Just the usual, really," he said, with all the cheerfulness he could muster.

She smiled at him. "You seem chipper though."

Good job. He'd managed to keep it together. "I don't think we're going to fail. You and Rick are getting close! Even when he's busy talking to his family, he's sneaking glances back at you..."

"Listen, Maxwell," she said, her voice faltering a little. "What if I told you.. that I'm falling for someone else?"

He sat up, shocked, and looked across at her incredulously. "What? No! Jen, _please_ don't say that."

"But.."

She had to be talking about Drake. They'd looked so cosy just now. Not good. He had to refocus her on her goal. "The social season can be a confusing time. It's easy to bond really quickly with people here throughout the activities.. You can't trust how you might be feeling right now."

She looked at him with wide eyes. "But.."

It was as if the words were Bertrand's, not his. "Even if you're having doubts, you're here for the Prince."

There was a long silence between them. Eventually he knew he had to break it.

"Hey, how much like Bertrand did I sound just then, on a scale of one to three million?"

She didn't answer him, just carried on riding, looking ahead at the mountain pass trail. She looked upset, and he felt sad and guilty.

"Anyway, we're coming up to our stop," he sighed. He glanced across at her, wondering if there was the tiniest chance, the smallest possibility, that she was talking about him. But she couldn't be. As Bertrand had said, it was a ridiculous fantasy. And even if she was, what sort of impossible situation would that put him in? He just had to stop with the wondering.


	10. Something in common

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 1, Chapter 15, while Jen and Maxwell are preparing for the Beaumont Bash.

There wasn't really much left to do today. They'd decided what they were all wearing, the entertainment for the evening had been decided (shh, top secret) and so it was just a case of going round all the guest rooms and making sure they were in order, so that was what he and Jen were doing right now.

"So, what's down here?" she asked him, lingering at the top of the corridor that led to the three largest bedrooms in the manor.

"You don't need to go down there," he said, panicking slightly. The first room she would come to was his, and he'd left it in a right state. Having only slept here once (last night) since the New York bachelor party, he'd not had the chance to tidy it up yet and it really was, ugh, she really didn't need to see that.

"Which one's yours?" She looked knowingly at him. "And how disgusting is it?"

"Wait.."

She walked past his bedroom door, and tried the second door in the corridor.

"Oh. Guessing I got the wrong one. This one smells far too fresh and fragrant."

He nodded. "That one's my parents' room."

"Oh." She peeked inside. "You don't use it?"

He shook his head. "No. Go on, you can go in." He didn't go in here much himself. It just reminded him of the hours he spent in here with his mum once she was too poorly to get out of bed. Back then, it was the only place he wanted to be. Since then, he'd rather be _anywhere_ else.

Jen looked hesitantly at him at first. "Oh, you know me. I'm too curious not to." She wandered into the room, and he watched as she breathed new life into it.

"Four poster bed... cool!" She sat down on it. "I've decided. I'm going to have one of these one day."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that comes as part of the Queen of Cordonia package..."

Her eyes lit up. "Aw yeah! What else do you think? A pack of corgis? Lifetime supply of petit fours?"

"Unlimited mani-pedis," he joked, leaning casually against the door frame.

"Right to declare oneself winner of all dance-offs?"

He pulled a face. "No. Even a Queen does not have that right. The Cordonian monarchy has no jurisdiction over the law of the dance-off."

She grinned, and looked around the room. "I'm surprised Bertrand hasn't moved in here."

Maxwell laughed awkwardly. That wasn't likely to happen unless there were any further developments. "Oh, he uses it from time to time. If there's anyone he.. let's just say he wants to impress? Not for a while though."

She glared at him. "I think that may have been TMI."

He giggled. "Sorry.."

"How about you?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "Any ladies you might have.. _wanted to impress_ here?"

Other than the obvious? He couldn't look at her. "Jen, that's my mom and dad's bed. I draw the line somewhere!"

She laughed, and lay back on it. "Okay. Yeah, I get that. Well, in that case, don't just stand there." She gestured to him to sit with her, and he pondered the wisdom of this action for a moment, but eventually joined her.

She sat up as he did so, her attention now drawn to a framed photograph on the side of the bed. _Oh. No. No no no no._

"Hey, this is cute... wait!"

She showed him the offending embarrassing article and there was no way he could spare his blushes. "That _can't_ be you, can it?" She laughed, not waiting for him to speak, clearly his face said it all. "Look how chubby you were!"

"Yeah, go on, laugh.."

"Awww.. look at those little dimples!!!"

"Yeah, it wasn't my best look. That was before I got into dancing... I lost weight then."

She looked him up and down, which made him feel a little unsure of himself, then turned back to the photograph. "I'm guessing you were, what? About six here?"

"I'd say," he said, squinting at the photograph. "Mom died when I was six, so.."

She looked at him. "Oh. Really?"

He nodded.

"You know, you don't talk about them much. Your parents."

"Guess not," he said. It wasn't something he found easy to talk about. His friends had lost parents too, in far more tragic circumstances. His parents had been older; they'd had Bertrand quite late in life, and although it had never been confirmed he'd always been led to believe his appearance six years later was unplanned, which just about said it all really.

"What happened to them?"

"Mom had cancer. Dad had.. a really horrible debilitating disease. He ended up in a coma. Bertrand had to come back from college, he ended up taking everything on when..."

He sighed. That was a time of his life he chose to block out. It wasn't as if he and his father had ever been close. In fact it was fair to say their relationship had been difficult. He'd always been a bit of a mummy's boy, if he was honest, and her death had hit him hard. When he was given the opportunity to go to college, he couldn't get away from Cordonia fast enough. Trouble is, he'd had to go back after graduation, when the money situation had further tightened.

"I was thirteen," she said in a small voice.

He looked at her curiously.

"When my mom died. And my dad."

His heart raced and he instinctively put an arm around her, his heart breaking for her. "Jen, I had no idea."

"No, it's fine. It never came up in conversation."

He sighed. It should have done, really. He was very conscious of the way he'd whisked her over here without a thought for whether she was leaving anyone behind her.

"They had a car accident. They were on their way to pick me up from a friend's party."

He looked at her sadly. "Oh, Jen."

She looked emotional, but wasn't letting any tears out. "I didn't have any other family local. I ended up in care, because the rest of my family were annoyed that they didn't get left anything. They left it all to me."

As she said the word _care_ it physically hurt his insides. His teenage years had been tough, but this didn't compare.

"So. I guess we have something in common. I'm sensing you're not keen to right now, but if you do ever want to talk about it.."

He nodded. "Yeah. Thanks." As much as he wanted to talk about it with her, he was still afraid to let her get too close.

"But don't tell anyone, Maxwell. Especially about the care bit. I don't want Rick to know. It might taint his opinion of me. And if it got out.."

He shook his head, and smiled. "Lips, sealed," he attempted to mutter through closed lips.

She looked at him strangely for a few seconds, but then her expression changed to a smile. "I trust you. Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do.."

"Good. So then you can tell me. What was going on with the money yesterday, Maxwell?"

He tensed up.

"Because Drake didn't believe a word you were saying yesterday afternoon," she said, raising an eyebrow. "And neither did I."

He sighed. Not good. "Listen.. you are going to have to trust me on this too. It's not that I don't trust you. But I _can't_ tell you. Not right now." He wanted to. He really wanted to. But she was too close to Drake. And it wasn't his secret to tell.

"Are you in any sort of trouble? I'm worried about you."

He shook his head. "No. I promise it's nothing like that. But.. if someone else was, you'd want to help them if you could, wouldn't you?"

She frowned at him. "I would, but.."

Suddenly realising how close they still were, he pulled away his arm and edged away a little. "I really want to tell you, Jen. If I could, I would. I will tell you one day. It's just..." Whatever he said, he would say too much, so he had to stop there.

"Okay," she said. "I respect that. As long as you're not the one in trouble. Because if you were, I'd want to do everything humanly possible to help you. You know that, right?"

"Right," he said, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. "Thanks, Jen."

"Besides, if you remember, the Cordonian Queen package also provides the answer to all of House Beaumont's financial woes, thus hopefully helping you with said _undisclosed_ situation immensely."

He grinned. "Yeah, there is that."

"This has turned out to be an unusually deep conversation for us, don't you think?"

He had to agree. It wasn't a bad thing at all. "Best we immediately get back to discussing party playlists and our favourite crisp flavours."

"Agreed," she said. "And we best relocate really before Bertrand finds us here, huh?" She took one last look at the family portrait. "I can definitely see the resemblance between your father and Bertrand. Can't see you in him though." She glanced back and forward at him, and the picture, eventually settling her gaze on him. "But you know what? You've got your mom's smile."


	11. The most important person in her world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment is during Book 2, Chapter 1 when Jen is staying at Ramsford.

"Wine tasting has got to be the best excuse for getting a bit squiffy ever," Maxwell said with a grin, as they opened the next bottle.

Bertrand frowned. "I hope you haven't been _drinking_ your wine, Maxwell. You should know by now that you should be spitting it out once you've tasted it, that is why I have supplied the spittoon."

Jen giggled. She knew full well that neither of them had used it.

Bertrand picked up the bottle after Maxwell had poured three glasses. "This is a Cabernet Sauvignon, from.."

"Tuscany?" she guessed..

"Correct," he said.

"Bit like the house red," she said to Maxwell with a grin.

He laughed. "Tariq's face! I still remember.."

"I still remember your face!" she admitted. It was her third clear memory of Maxwell. After him making her jump by banging his fists on the table while ordering steak, and her first impression on catching sight of him (that she'd quite liked what she'd seen).

He looked a bit bemused. "Mine?"

"Yeah, you looked at me when I said "it also comes in white" and I really nearly burst out laughing... it took all my strength to keep a straight face!"

"Oh my god, I did, didn't I?"

"Ahem," Bertrand interrupted. "Lady Jen, I need you to try the wine and tell me something about how it tastes."

She sipped the wine. "It's pretty good.. for a house red."

Maxwell laughed, almost spitting out his wine, and she creased up in giggles too.

"That might have passed for a reaction in a dive bar in New York," Bertrand groaned. "But in the royal court you'd be laughed out of the room."

"Okay," she said. "I meant to say, the mouthfeel of this cabernet is velvety and full, with jammy stone-fruit flavours."

Maxwell clapped his hands together. "I can almost taste the pretention. It's perfect."

"Better," sighed Bertrand. "Now, I can see that you two have had sufficient. I suggest you go for a walk and sober up a little, before the next briefing."

He picked up the wine bottle, gave them one of his most judging glares, and walked out of the room.

Jen looked at Maxwell, and waited until Bertrand was out of earshot. As soon as he was, they both burst out laughing.

"Pretty good for a house red.."

"Also available in white.."

"Oh, you're killing me, Jen. You really are. Come on!" He stood up, and held out his arm. "Best we go on the suggested walk?"

She beamed. "Best we had." She stood up and linked arms with him, and they headed out of the house and into the grounds. It was a perfect summer's evening; still as warm as day, but stiller.

"Y'know, I was thinking the other day," he said. "When we were at the airport, when you were saying you wanted to go home."

"Mmm?"

"I just.. I realised how little I know about the life you left behind. Like, I didn't even know about your parents until last week, before the Beaumont Bash."

She sighed. There wasn't much to know. "Like I said to you then, it had never really come up in conversation."

"No, but.. I feel like I should have at least got an understanding of what you were leaving behind.. what you've sacrificed.. to come out here? It makes me feel bad, to be honest."

She shrugged. "It shouldn't. To be quite honest, my life in New York wasn't all that."

"I get the situation with your family. But you must have friends that you've left behind? I've never heard you mention _anyone_."

She looked down. "That's mainly because there isn't really anyone to mention. Not anymore."

"Oh?"

"After my parents died, when I was in care, I didn't really make the sort of friends you want to keep in touch with. And I'd not lived with my flatmate very long. My previous flatmate moved away. I..." She didn't really want to tell him the reason why she didn't really have any other friends, as that would mean telling him about the messy way in which her relationship had ended, which would mean telling him about her relationship. Which would be weird. "I guess I was just at a point in my life where I was waiting for something to change."

He laughed. "Like an invitation from a complete stranger to fly halfway across the globe with them?"

"Mm-hmm. So, you see? You were absolutely meant to ask me to come back here with you. Don't you ever question it again."

He smiled, blushing slightly. "Sounds like your life was a bit lonely."

Honestly? Yes, she had been lonely. "I was managing fine."

She watched his expression carefully. It was one of extreme concern and sympathy. "So, what about the rest of your family? You said things got awkward after your parents died.."

"Anything they had, which wasn't a lot really, got left to me. Mom said she wanted me to go travelling with it when I was old enough, as she knew that was what I'd always wanted to do. So, I did. The rest of the family thought that was a bad idea. That I should have invested it, or spent it on going to college or something. So we don't speak anymore."

"You didn't make friends at high school?"

She nodded. "They didn't stick around though, but that's a story in itself."

"What about when you went travelling?"

She smiled. "Maybe a few. But that was a while ago too."

"Where did you go?"

"London," she said. "Madrid, Berlin.."

"London? _Really? _I went to college there!"

"Did you?" Her eyes lit up. "Wow. How many years ago..."

"Um, let's see, I guess I left about six, seven years ago?"

"No way, Maxwell. That's about the time I was there. How funny!" She looked at him. "Hey, who knows, we could've walked past each other in the street.."

"London's a big place," he laughed, dismissively, but she could sense intrigue in his eyes.

"Yeah, I was there for a few weeks in the end. I really wanted to go to Paris, but couldn't make it work."

"You might get your chance soon," he said, thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure the engagement tour is heading to Paris..."

She gasped. "Really? Because I've always wanted to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower.."

"Yep. And Italy. Now that's the bit I'm looking forward to. All the gelato."

She smiled fondly at him, and then they wandered in silence for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry about your parents, Jen," he said eventually.

"Thanks. I'm sorry about yours, too."

"Thanks. Well, I was alright. I've got Bertrand."

She looked at him questioningly. She could tell he didn't want to talk, and just wished she knew why. "Well. Anytime you want to talk about them, or anything, I'm here."

"It's not.." He sighed. "I still can't believe.. I mean, we have quite a bit in common, don't we?"

"Yeah, well like you said, you had Bertrand. I had no-one. And I didn't really want it getting out. A waitress is one thing, a waitress who grew up in care is another."

"You know I won't tell anyone. My lips are still sealed. I am making a solemn vow of confidentiality."

She smiled. She trusted him completely. "You can be House Beaumont's official secret-keeper."

He looked a little thrown, but laughed. "Yeah. I'm good at that."

She smiled again, feeling warm inside, and wondered if he might now have a better idea from this conversation that, in spite of only coming into her life a few months ago, he was actually the most important person in her world.


	12. Quite the role reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 2, Chapter 1, during Jen's stay at Ramsford.

She had a "day off" today, which was something of a novelty, but it wasn't as if she could do much with it. She couldn't even be seen out anywhere. Maxwell had been out today; she'd seen him come back in from her bedroom window with bags of shopping. Seemingly he'd hit the high street, and she was a little curious as to what he was up to, given that they were in such dire financial straits.

She decided to go for a wander downstairs to see if she could find him anywhere. Bertrand was about somewhere, she guessed he was probably in the study. The drawing room was empty.

She headed back upstairs, and decided against calling out for him. Instead she crept up to his bedroom door. With a grin, she knocked on it. This was quite the role reversal.

"Who's there?" she heard him call.

"Me."

"One sec."

She listened carefully at the door, and heard an interesting combination of rustling papers and furniture being moved. Ten seconds later, he appeared. "What's up?"

"Oh, I'm just a bit bored, you know," she said. "Wanna... hang out?"

"That sounds good," he said with a genuine smile. "I'm just doing something quickly, I'll come find you."

She craned her neck to peek into the room beyond him, and noticed scissors and Sellotape on the floor, and a roll of brown paper. Clearly, he'd been wrapping a parcel. "Someone's birthday?"

He hesitated for a minute, then followed her gaze. "Yes. My aunt. Sending her a customary cardigan."

"Oh, okay," she said, looking quizzically at him, as she wasn't convinced. There was definitely more to Maxwell Beaumont than she'd been allowed to see. He was up to something. She wondered if this had something to do with the missing money, and the secret he couldn't share.

"I'll come find you in a bit, okay?"

She nodded, as he shut the door on her, feeling a little deflated. All sorts of things were going through her mind. Perhaps he had a secret girlfriend (or even a _boyfriend_, the way her thoughts were currently going) somewhere? That he didn't want Bertrand to know about? But then, surely he'd have confided in her about it, wouldn't he?

She sighed, and trailed back downstairs, wondering just what the point of coming back here had been. Yes she could now reason and answer questions more eloquently, knew exactly which cutlery to pick up first and when, and could dance every step to every sequence that was likely to be necessary, but she couldn't really explain what was going on in her head right now.

"Ah, Lady Jen," Bertrand boomed as she headed through the drawing room. "Have you seen Maxwell?"

"He's upstairs," she said. Time to test her theory. "Wrapping up a birthday present for your aunt."

Bertrand's eyebrows frowned at her. "Excuse me?"

Her stomach lurched. He _had_ been hiding something. "You don't have an aunt?"

"No."

She sighed, wondering how to play this without rousing Bertrand's suspicion. "Well, that was the reason he gave me not to come into his room. I guess it could have been a euphemism.." She grinned an evil grin.

"Enough," Bertrand said, flustered. "Tell him I'm looking for him next time you see him." He scuttled off in the direction of the study, and Jen was left alone with an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.


	13. Sent from heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new little moment, again written for a fic challenge. Set at the beginning of book 2, chapter 4, before the country picnic.

When Jen woke up the next morning, her very first thought had been the same as her very last thought last night, and it was a lovely one; the recollection of yesterday’s little treat, getting to see Maxwell clad only in a towel. She was beginning to think she was going to feel lowkey disappointed should he knock on her door fully clothed this morning.

This morning. Suddenly she remembered what this morning represented.

The fact began to sink in. And she suddenly felt incredibly guilty for being distracted by something so frivolous. Fifteen years ago today her life had changed forever.

Normally this was a difficult day for her. Last year it had been quite an empty one. For the few years before that, it had been an opportunity for her to be constantly reminded how lucky she was not to be alone. Before that, it had still been a little raw. She wondered how today would feel. Sure, she would be able to keep her mind off it, as she knew there were events planned today.

She got up, washed, got dressed, and before she knew it there came the typical knock on the door, five minutes earlier than arranged, but that was a bonus. She went to answer it.

“Good morning, future Queen!”

“Good morning, Maxwell,” she said, sleepily.

“Ready for another exciting day of pre-nuptial festivities?”

Perhaps she wasn’t ready; she felt a wave of emotion hitting her.

“Jen? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m sorry..” She wiped her eyes, realising how pathetic this was, but through her tears all she could see was his concern.

“Hey…” He looked around. “Alright if I…?”

She nodded and walked into the room, turning her back to him and heading to the far corner of her bedroom, still dabbing at her eyes.

"What’s happened?” she heard him say once he had gently shut the door. “Jen?”

"Oh, I’m just being silly,” she protested. “Just forget it. I’ll be fine.”

She still had her back to him but suddenly felt his warm arms emerge from behind her, enveloping her in a hug. “Hey. You’re not fine now.”

She sighed and leant into him. “I will be. And this is definitely helping.”

He chuckled. “Good to know.”

She turned around, his arms staying in place now resting on her back, and looked at him. “I wasn’t going to say anything. It’s silly.”

“I’m silly, Jen. So I’ll understand.”

Her heart swelled. “You probably will understand.” She felt comfortable telling him in a way that she didn’t think she would with anyone else. “It’s the anniversary of my parents’ death today.”

“Oh, Jen. I can’t begin to imagine what that feels like.”

She cocked her head. “I thought you might be able to. You’ve lost both of your parents too.”

He looked a little shaken for a moment. “But not on the same day like you. And so suddenly. It must be awful.”

She nodded, and felt more tears coming. “I still feel so guilty, Fifteen years on, it still hurts to feel that if it wasn’t for me going to that stupid party, they might still be here today, you know?” She sniffed, and rested her head on his shoulder.

She felt his hands fidget against her back; she knew it had to be unintentional on his part but it was really doing things to her. “Jen, you can’t blame yourself. You know that deep down, right?”

“I know.” She sighed, trying to hold back the tears. “It doesn’t mean I don’t wonder what they’d be doing now, how my life might be different..”

“Huh, yeah, you might not be stuck with me while we try and figure out how to get you back on the road to Queensville.”

“Pretty sure I would,” she admitted. “But I still wonder what they’d make of it. I miss them.”

“I get that,” he sighed. “I miss my mom too. Twenty years on, that still stings. Every January 7 is tough for me, like today must be tough for you.”

She leant outwards, looking at him. “Do you miss your dad too?”

“Yeah. I mean there are days I just wish I could see him.. talk to him. But then, I don’t think he’d be all that impressed with what I’ve done with my life, since he...” He was looking at his feet, his fingers still twitching energetically behind her.

“Why not? You’re such a credit to him. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for right now.” She nudged his chin upwards so he looked at her again. His blue eyes carried a sadness she didn’t see too often.

“He has…. _had_.. different values.”

She nodded, letting her hand brush against his arm, it just felt instinctive.

Suddenly he perked up, releasing his hold on her. “Still, your parents would have been thrilled for you, right? Getting your chance to travel and see the world like you’d always dreamed?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I wish I could tell them. And I wish I’d had the chance to tell them before how much I loved them. It was so.. sudden.”

He nodded, placing his hands on her arms now. “I’m pretty sure they would have told you they loved you too, and that they’d watch over you.”

“Is that what your parents said to you?”

He bit his lip. “My mom told me that one day, when I was ready for it, she’d send me someone else to love me as much as she did. She promised.”

Jen felt herself welling up again, but not due to her own grief. “You’re still waiting?”

“For now.” He looked wistfully at her, and she almost wondered whether she should tell him how she felt. She knew she could be that person sent from heaven. It was what she wanted more than anything. But it wasn’t what he wanted to hear from her. He needed her to keep her eyes on the goal.

“Y’know, Jen, maybe this is what it’s all about. Your parents are looking down on you now and making things right for you. We will clear your name, Jen. I promise you. You will get your chance to be queen.”

And there he went again, proving her point. Despite that, she allowed herself to sink into his shoulder again, still damp from her initial tears. His hands travelled lightly up and down her arms. She didn’t ever want to move away.

“Now, come on. Hana will be here any minute. You have to stop crying on my shoulder. You’ll wreck the shirt fibres.”

She giggled, and did as she was told. “Thanks, Maxwell. I mean it. I needed this.”

“What are BFFs for?” He winked at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

There was another knock on the door, and he dashed over to answer it. “Ooh, here’s Hana, right on time..”

She smiled as he went, taking a deep breath. Right now, it felt like he’d been sent from heaven for her.

“Hey, Hana! Come on, Jen, let’s go!” she heard him shout.

“Morning Hana,” Jen said, as she left her room. “So, what’s the purpose of today’s country picnic?”

“To serve as a send-off,” said Maxwell as they started to make their way along the corridor. “And to remind the new couple, amidst the glitz and glamour of a royal engagement tour, of the beauty and bounty of Cordonia!”

“It’s our last day in Cordonia, then our travels begin!” Hana explained.

Jen was puzzled. “Wait, our last day in Cordonia?”

“You know, we leave for the Rick and Madeleine world tour tomorrow!” Maxwell said, in excitement. “First stop, Italy!”


	14. Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new little moment I wrote for a challenge. Set during Book 2 Chapter 6, when Jen goes to meet Rick at the Blue Grotto.

No, he wasn’t crying. Crying would be dumb. There was merely moisture in his eyes as he walked back to the train. He was grateful for the darkness that had now settled on the evening, hopeful that he wouldn’t bump into anyone on his way back to his carriage. Hopeful that Drake wouldn’t already be there to see him in this mess. Hope was all he had, most of the time.

If Bertrand could get inside his head right now, and that was a situation he really hoped would never ever come to pass in this life or the next, he’d be having a field day. _Cease this pathetic fixation immediately. She would be appalled if she picked up on it. Not only is it inappropriate but you know full well that Jen is our only hope for turning our fortunes around. _

And he was trying to do what his inner Bertrand said. He really was. But what’dya do when the only person you’ve ever imagined yourself marrying asks you to pretend to propose to her? You make her, and everyone else around you, think you’re some actor. When really, it’s something you wish you could do for real.

But that’s just weird and wrong, right? She’d just laugh and say no. “You know I love you, Maxwell. But not in that way. Besides, you know I’m here for Rick.”

Yet the way she’d looked at him just now, just before he’d told her that Rick wanted to meet her… well, nobody had ever looked at him like that. And he couldn’t explain it or figure it out. Optimistic hallucination? Probably. Maybe she was actually thinking about Rick as she gazed at him. Or Drake? Yeah, that would explain it. But… no, forget it.

He wiped more of that pesky moisture from his eyes as he got closer to the train station. Yeah, he knew what he was signing himself up to when he convinced Jen to go back with him that morning he’d tracked her down in New York. He was already crushing on her then, but he’d figured that wasn’t a good enough reason not to bring two beautiful people together. And it still wasn’t. And they would be together tonight. And that was fine.

And soon, once they cleared Jen’s name, those two beautiful people would be together forever. And that was fine too.

Fine. Fine. Really fine. Everything was fine.

He strode onto the train and along the carriage towards their sleeper car. He swiped the card to unlock it – to find Drake was already in there, a scowl on his face.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m FINE!” he shouted.

Drake nodded, and stood up, holding up his hands. “O-kay. I’ll leave you to be _fine_.” He looked curiously at him, then walked past him and out of the sleeper car.

He crashed onto his bed face down, and sighed deeply. He still wasn’t crying, but somehow this pillow was getting damper by the second.


	15. Counting to ten backwards. Twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place in book two, chapter 7, on the morning of Madeleine's bachelorette party.

He counted to ten before he knocked on the door. Backwards. Twice. 10, 9, 8..

He hadn't slept last night. There had been so much going through his head. Drake finding out about the photos he'd taken for the scrapbook. Finding out that Bertrand had tried to sell them.. well, now he'd finally had something to chastise him for, in a role reversal to end all role reversals. It all made sense now why Ana had threatened to run that story, because she'd lost the other story. Understandable she hadn't told them about having the photos in the first place.

4, 3, 2... But after the stress of all that, as he lay awake, it was Jen's face he couldn't displace from his mind, her look of victory as he'd found her in the alleyway, no it wasn't just a look of victory, it was a look of pure adoration. She'd looked at him as if she _adored_ him. And not in the _oh aren't you adorable _way. In the _I want to rip all your clothes off this instant _way. He knew it was just the adrenaline from the chase, from the little show they'd put on beforehand. But it had been a moment, a moment they'd had together.

6, 5, 4.. And he'd had to push her away afterwards, because he was scared of doing or saying something stupid. Because he was finding it harder and harder to fight his feelings. And instead of taking the opportunity to say something to her when they'd got back to the train, he'd pushed her straight into Rick's arms, and she'd gone off with Rick, on a boat to the blue lagoon, and of course it would have been romantic and there was no way he could ever compete with any of that, and even if he could, he was rapidly losing sight of what they were trying to do here.

3, 2, 1. He knocked.

Seconds later, she answered. "Hey!"

"Jen! I've got good news."


	16. A bit of a recoil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 2, Chapter 8, the night before Drake and Jen discover Savannah's whereabouts.

“Aaaaaaand, that little baby is finally asleep.”

Maxwell crept back stealthily into the living room of the small Parisian apartment, and threw himself triumphantly onto the sofa next to the tired looking brunette, whose face lit up with relief at his words.

“Oh, that’s brilliant. Thank you! You’re a baby-whisperer.”

“Yeah well, obviously I haven’t had as much practice as you.. and he’s changed so much since I was last here… Think he remembered me?”

She smiled warmly. “Yeah, I think he did. Well. I appreciated having a night off. I’ve cooked myself a meal, caught up with all the housework, it’s been brilliant!”

“And now,” he said, producing a bottle of wine from the carrier bag he’d brought in with him, which had also been packed with toys and treats for baby Bartie. “You get to chill out with yours truly and a glass of wine!” He held it up with a victorious flourish.

“Aw, Maxwell. You’re the best. I don’t know what to say…”

“Just say that again…”

“Seriously though,” she sighed, as he got up and went to get two glasses and a corkscrew from the kitchen. “You are. Everything you’ve done for us… all the money you’ve sent over… I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“Where do you keep the corkscrew?” he called out to her.

“Oh.. I’ll come get it.”

She joined him in the kitchen, and passed him the corkscrew. She stood watching as he poured the wine into two glasses. “Bottle of Ramsford’s finest. I pinched it from the cellar at Beaumont Manor. Don’t tell Bertrand.”

She laughed. “I’m not likely to.”

He took a sip, and she did the same, as they stood together in the kitchen. He put his glass down on the side, and smiled at her. “Well. This is nice.”

The next thing he knew, she drew really close.. so close that their lips were touching.

Instinct forced him to draw away, and step a couple of steps back. “Wait.. what was that?”

She looked at him with devastation in her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, Maxwell. I’m so, so sorry. I just thought….”

“Hey…” Nooo, this was bad. She’d burst into tears. “C’mere, Savannah. C’mere.” He walked back over to her and held her in his arms while she wept. “S’okay. Doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, it does. I’ve made such an idiot of myself..”

“Hey. You’re talking to Maxwell Beaumont here. I make an idiot out of myself on a daily basis. It’s no skin off my nose.”

She looked up at him. “I just… Oh, it doesn’t matter.”

“Hey. Let’s go sit back down. I’ll bring your wine.”

She led him back over to the small sofa in the living room.

“I…. I just thought, I suppose. You’ve been so kind, and you’ve provided for us so well.. I just wanted to show how thankful I was.. I thought….”

He sighed, wondering how to put this without making her feel any worse. “If you thought I was doing all this for you because I wanted to get my leg over, then you really haven’t had a good experience of the world, Savannah.”

“Maybe I haven’t,” she said, her head in her hands, wiping the last tears away.

“Listen. Everything I’ve done has been for Bartie. And you. And, kinda indirectly, for Bertrand.” He put his arm around her. “Bartie’s my nephew. I adore him. And I just want to help you however I can. But.. maybe not like that.”

“I’m sorry. I was stupid.”

“I don’t expect _anything_ in return for the money. Hey, it’s Bertrand’s money too, remember. Bizarrely, he continues to allow me some access to our finances.”

“He’ll find out what you’ve done for us one day,” Savannah sighed.

“And you should tell him before that day,” Maxwell said, the guilt returning to his chest.

“I can’t tell him, Maxwell. We’ve been through this so many times. It’s pathetic. He doesn’t want to be in his son’s life, so what’s the point?”

Maxwell drummed his fingers against her arm. “I still can’t help thinking that you two might have misunderstood each other that day. Just talk to each other.”

She shook her head. “Nope. Me and Bartie are fine.” She looked at him again, inquisitively. “So, that was a bit of a recoil back there. Guess I’m not at my most attractive, these days, huh?”

“Oh, Savannah. It’s not that at all.” Funnily enough, he’d had a bit of a crush on her a few years ago. “D’you know what, not so long ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated. But… things _are_ different now.”

“How?”

“I couldn’t do it to Bertrand,” he sighed. “Just imagine the fallout.”

“What if he never had to find out?” She wasn’t giving up.

“Nah. I couldn’t live with myself. And I’m not so sure you could either.” He sighed, looking over at the wall.

“I think you’re right,” she said eventually. “You’re one of the good guys, aren’t you Maxwell?”

“I like to think so,” he said. “Where my brother is concerned, definitely. He acts all aloof, but deep down, he’s as vulnerable as any of us. And I couldn’t, Savannah. Even though you and Bertrand aren’t together. It just wouldn’t be right.”

“I… oh, this is pathetic. I mean, not quite as pathetic as me throwing myself at you just then… but… I guess I still love him, Maxwell.”

“It’s not pathetic,” he assured her. “And I’m not surprised. You guys have a lot of history.”

She sighed, fidgeting with her long brown hair. “I’ve been besotted with him ever since I could remember. Even when I was a teenager, I had a huge crush on him. Now we’re older.. I really thought we could make a go of things. I just found it so difficult, he kept putting these barriers up, and then… it was only that one night, but… it was the most perfect night. And what happened afterwards..”

Maxwell removed his arm from her shoulder, and flexed both of his arms in front of him anxiously. “I know my brother better than anyone else does, I guess. And I think he feels the same way for you as you do for him. I really do. I wish you two could talk it out. Now I would never tell him where you are, or what I’ve been doing for you, without your permission. But I wish you would let me, Savannah. I really do. I think it would be a good thing.”

“I’m not so sure. I’m not good enough for House Beaumont. He said it himself. He has to marry a noble lady.”

“Well he’s certainly not working on that right now. Besides, he’s too busy trying to clear Jen’s name at the moment. We all are.” He pulled a face, trying to hide his expression. “I mean, even Drake is.”

Savannah’s expression changed to one of guilt. “How is Drake?”

“He’s here in Paris you know. He misses you so much. He blames himself for you going away. I did my best to keep my distance from him for a while, because I hated not being able to tell him as well. But with everything that’s been going on, we’ve been pulled together…” He felt a sudden dejection. Wherever Jen was, Drake seemed to be at the moment. And it concerned him.

“This Jen has a lot to answer for,” Savannah said with a smirk. “I wish I could meet her.”

“I wish you could too. You’d _love_ her. She’s _incredible_. But I can’t drag her into this secret. It’s not fair on her. She’s got enough going on.”

“So have you,” Savannah suggested. “Maybe a problem shared….”

Maybe. She had a point.

“And you two seem to make a good team,” she added.

“Thanks! Yeah, we do. She’s the good cop to my bad cop.”

“Which one are you?”

“I think I’m bad cop,” he pondered. “Not sure really.” This all reminded him of when they’d tracked down the photographer. The look in her eye as he’d caught up with her, had just made him feel all sorts of funny things.

He was brought back to reality by Savannah’s laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“You know what you said earlier about things being different? I think I get it now. You’re _different_. And the way you were talking before, and over the last few weeks whenever we’ve facetimed, I know. Well, I suspected.” She was making him nervous now. “No wonder you didn’t want to kiss me just then. You and Jen have got a thing going on, haven’t you.”

He felt his face flush. “_No!_ I mean, how would you.. why would you even..”

She smiled. “There. I knew it.”

“_Definitely_ not. Nothing has ever happened between me and Jen. Jen’s going to be Rick’s queen once we clear her name. We all know it. And we’re gonna clear it. I’ve promised her we will. And Rick loves her..”

“And so do you.”

He looked at her, defeated. Perhaps he’d been a little over-animated when he’d told Savannah about the fake proposal, a little too fond when describing how he’d taught Jen to dance, a little too specific when he’d told her what he found so amazing about his new best friend. “Let’s pretend I do, just for arguments sake..”

“That won’t be difficult for you.” She crossed her legs with a satisfied smirk.

He laughed. “Okay. You got me. But this has to _stay in this room._”

She nodded. “On one condition, so does the stupid thing I just did in the kitchen.”

“Deal,” he said, extending an arm. She took it, and they shook hands.

“So have you told her how you feel?”

He shook his head. “There’s no way I can do that.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Because she doesn’t see me the way I see her. I see this beautiful, remarkable, kind woman who makes me want to be a better person and sees the.. I don’t know, the good in me? The potential? No-one else sees me like that. But she sees that in everyone. I know she sees it in Rick. And she’ll make the _best _Queen, Savannah. She’s got what it takes. And, like I said. He loves her. So it doesn’t matter what I think.”

“I don’t agree..”

“So I’m just doing my best to think of Jen as my best friend. Which is easy really, because she is my best friend. The best friend I’ve ever had.” He put his head in his hands for a moment, and looked back at her. “Trouble is, I’ve never really felt like I needed to be with my friends every single second I had the chance, never felt warmth like I do in the oddest places when looking at them, or like I wanted to kiss their lips so badly that it turned me inside out. That’s all new.”

Her expression was sympathetic. “You should tell her, Maxwell. Before it’s too late.”

“You’re a fine one to talk, Savannah Walker.” He winked at her, and she shook her head, laughing again, as he pointed both hands at her.

“Yeah, I know. We’re both as bad as each other. But, you know why I can’t tell Bertrand. It would be pathetic.”

“And it would be pathetic if I told Jen. There’s far too much at stake for me to mess everything up by doing or saying something stupid right now.”

“We really are both in a mess, aren’t we?”

“That’s a polite way of saying it,” he agreed. “Yeah. We are. More wine?”

She raised her eyebrows. “More wine!”

He looked sceptically at her. “As long as you promise not to try and jump me again..”

She beamed back at him. “You have my solemn word.”

***

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” he promised her as he left. “We’ve got a free day, and I think I can sneak away without anyone being too suspicious.” Although he was already wondering how he was going to explain his absence to Jen. Probably best just to go and hope she didn’t notice. “So, don’t go anywhere!”

“Thanks, Maxwell,” she said. “I’ll be here. And that’d be brilliant. I can get an uninterrupted shower. Been a while since I could do that!”

“Sure you don’t want me to bring Drake with me?”

“No,” she said. “I’m not quite ready for that.”

“Okay. Well then, I’ll see you tomorrow..” He turned to go.

“Wait, Maxwell. Just.. earlier. I just want to apologise again. I don’t know what came over me.”

“No need.” He smiled fondly at her. “I’m actually quite flattered. I mean.. you’re _definitely _out of my league.”

She shook her head. “I wish you wouldn’t see yourself like that. I’m not, you know. And neither is she.”

He laughed, looking at his feet, knowing exactly who she was referring to.

“You’re a catch, Maxwell. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life.”

“Aaand on that note, before my head grows so large I can’t get out the door..”

She smiled softly, and kissed him on the cheek. “Go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Beyond her the baby monitor crackled to life, and Savannah turned to face it. “Oh. That time already?”

“I’ll leave you two to it. Night.”

“Night.”

She closed the door and he wandered down the corridor and down the stairs, feeling bittersweet about the evening's events. He was quite pleased with how he’d handled that delicate situation; once upon a time he’d have probably gone with it, but there wasn’t room in his head for any more complications. He already hated keeping this huge secret from Bertrand, from Drake, from Jen. But he had no choice. She didn’t want them to know, and he got why. He just wasn’t looking forward to the day they found out.

Besides, even if there had been room in his head, there wouldn’t have been room in his heart. There was only one woman he could think about right now. And while distracting himself from her with another might have been effective in the short term, Savannah was right. He was one of the good guys. Whatever that was worth.


	17. No point in trying to pretend otherwise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 2, Chapter 9, just before Drake comes to find Jen after they have discovered Savannah.

Back at the train, later that night, just after Jen had retired for the evening, she lay on her bed, contemplating the afternoon's events. Yes, she'd jumped to conclusions, but it had seemed logical, and much more believable than the truth. She just couldn't imagine Bertrand and Savannah together. They seemed so different. She was bubbly, funny and kind, and quite a lot younger than he was.

But in those few minutes that she'd convinced herself that Maxwell and Savannah were, or at least had been together, she'd realised something, from the pain and despair she'd felt, from the fact that she couldn't even look at him for fear of breaking down in tears. Something that she thought she'd known for a while.

_No point trying to pretend otherwise. I'm in love with Maxwell Beaumont. The man who brought me to Cordonia in the hope that I'd fall in love with someone else. You couldn't make it up._

She jumped when she heard a knock on the door. It wasn't Maxwell. She stood up, straightened herself up, and opened the door to see Drake. He was leaning against the doorframe, sighing.

"Well, here you are," he said. He'd seemingly had a few whiskies.

"Yep," she said, breezily. "Here I am!"

He avoided her gaze, tapping his fingers on the edge of the door. "Hey, Jones, thanks for convincing me to do that earlier."

"Don't mention it," she said.

"I want you to know. You're a good friend, Jones." He smiled sadly at her and turned to go. "You better get some rest. Don't forget, we've got a big night tomorrow."

She sighed. The bachelor party. Time to confront Bastien. "Yep. I'm ready."

"Good, I'm ready too, and I'll be right there with you," he told her.

"Thanks," she said to him. "Something tells me that if I'm finally going to get some answers, I'll need all the help I can get."

He left the room, and she sat back down contemplatively. She wanted to be a good friend to Drake, he was such a great guy, but she didn't want to give him the wrong idea. What was it with this place? Everyone seemed to have fallen for her, apart from the person who _she'd_ fallen for – who just happened to be rooting for her to get with someone else. Life wasn't fair.


	18. No more secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during book 2, chapter 11.... in Maxwell's tent :)

"So..." She looked at him with a strange expression that he didn't really get.

"I'll, uh, guard the entrance," he said, edging towards the tent door. "I swear on House Beaumont, I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

"Thanks, Maxwell." He heard her sigh, and move about. "The things I have do to check you're okay."

He turned to face her. "I'm okay.." More than okay, actually.

"I've just been worried, and I haven't had the chance to talk to you properly since the whole Savannah thing broke."

He sighed. It hadn't been the best few days. Drake was being really different with him, and as for Bertrand, he didn't really want to relive that conversation they'd had just before his brother had angrily returned to Cordonia to lick his wounds.

"Wanna talk about it?" she said, moving in to hug him.

"Not right now," he admitted, letting her hold him. "I'm sorry, Jen."

"You're sorry?"

"That I couldn't tell you." He'd wanted desperately to confide in her about it, but how could he have done? He had seriously considered it at one point, when she'd come to his room and almost caught him in the act of wrapping up baby clothes to send across to Paris.

"Hey, as I keep telling Drake, it wasn't your secret to tell." She reached across to ruffle his hair. "Don't keep beating yourself up. I think what you did was amazing."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You're such a good friend, Maxwell." She rested her head on his chest.

He nodded, not sure why he would have expected her to say anything more. "So, no more secrets between us, yeah?" Apart from the obvious one, which wasn't really a secret, more of a something he would tell her eventually when the subject came up. It was just hard to talk about. Oh, and also the fact that he was totally, utterly and irretrievably besotted with her.

She paused. "Okay. No more secrets." She leant up to face him, her face very close to his. Although she was in a separate sleeping bag, this was still a little too much for him. He had to change the subject.

"How are things going with Rick?" he said, inadvertently interrupting her just as she started to say something.

She looked upset, and pulled away.

"What? Just curious, that's all! I'm just surprised you're in here with me, not in his tent with him! I heard he took you to the Eiffel Tower the other night? That must have been amazing!"

She turned her back to him. "Like I said, I just needed to check you were okay, Maxwell."

She obviously didn't want to talk about that either. Well, what she and Rick got up to wasn't any of his business. "Okay. Well, I'm okay." He reached across to touch her face. "Sweet dreams."

"You too," he heard her sniff.

He lay awake for a while, listening to her breathing change as she slept. Taking everything in of how it felt to fall asleep next to her. He knew it was never going to happen again. 


	19. After the roof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 2, Chapter 14 (oh yes!) just after The. Kiss.

"This has been a lot to process, for both of us," she said, as they headed back towards the stairs.

He nodded, and they walked down the stairs to the elevators in silence.

"You okay?" she asked him as they waited for the elevator. He was unusually quiet, although extremely fidgety.

He smiled. "I am so much more than okay. Just... a little shell-shocked."

The elevator arrived, and they stepped inside. She leant back against the rail, looking at him. He stood by the buttons, drumming his fingers against them restlessly, looking at her. Nothing further was said.

With that, the elevator doors opened, and they were back in amongst the nobles and dignitaries. Well, a few of them. It was definitely thinning out.

"I didn't realise it had got so late," he said to her. "Looks like it's time to go. I do still have a few calls to make."

Jen sighed, remembering that she'd agreed to show Rick around the city after the party. She searched the crowds as they filed out, and spotted Rick at the perimeter of the room, waiting for someone. Waiting for her. He hadn't seen her.

She couldn't go with Rick. Not now.

"I'll go back with you," Jen said to Maxwell. "It's been a long day."

"We might struggle to get a car.."

"It's not far to walk," she said. "And we know it's a nice evening. Let's do that."

"Okay."

They walked for a little while in near silence, and Jen felt oddly deflated. He'd definitely said everything she'd hoped he'd say in response to her revelation, but his physical reactions didn't quite tally up with what he'd said. He was obviously mulling over all the things that had been going through her head over the last few months.

"You okay?" she eventually asked him again.

He nodded. "Just thinking."

"Want to talk it through with me?"

"Probably best I don't," he said with a cheeky smile.

She grinned. "Oh?"

"Look, I'm sorry if this is weird, or not how you thought things would go. I just need to get my head around it all."

"That's fine," she said. She looked around and behind them to make sure there was no-one they knew in the vicinity, and she took his hand.

"That's nice," he said.

"So, where did Drake go?" she asked him.

"Not entirely sure. He said something about leaving us two to it, just before you came back from talking to Adelaide."

She sniggered. "Huh." Maybe he'd seen this coming.

"If only he knew, huh?"

"Yeah," she said, softly.

They were back at the hotel now, and took the lift up to their rooms, which were opposite each other. Normally, he'd pop into her room for a bit when they got back from an event, before heading to bed, but tonight was different, and he hovered outside the room as she opened the door.

"Night then," she said, looking up and down the corridor. There was no-one about. She turned her gaze back to him, desperate to kiss him again, but not wanting to be the initiator this time.

She wasn't disappointed, and she closed her eyes in bliss as he hesitantly leant in. They kissed gently, for a few long seconds.

As he pulled away, he put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm so glad I don't have to fight this anymore," he murmured softly. "You've got no idea how hard it's been."

"Oh, trust me, I do," she said in response, and watched as his face lit up again. So many times she'd just desperately wanted to get closer to him, feel his skin close to hers, inhale his sweet scent, kiss those soft lips. It had been very difficult. Now she'd had a taste, it would be even more difficult. But as much as she wanted more, she knew it wouldn't be a good idea to invite him in, given what he'd said earlier, that he needed to think things through.

"So..." His grin had faded, and he looked unsure of himself.

"Let's just get some sleep, see how we feel tomorrow," she said to him. After all, if anything happened now, it would just make it harder if things worked out as they both hoped they would, if her name was cleared, if things worked out with Rick.

"Yeah. And I've got those calls to make."

"Yeah. Well, let me know tomorrow morning how you got on."

"Night, Jen."

She kissed him again, closing her eyes and feeling the smile form on his lips afterwards. She was much more content now than she had been when they'd left the party. She got that this was a big thing, and it had obviously come as a shock to him. Hopefully a nice shock.

But she felt proud of herself for what she'd achieved tonight. And she knew now that she wasn't just fond of him, or simply attracted to him. She _loved_ him. But she couldn't tell him that just yet.

"Night, Maxwell."

She shut the door and leant against it for a few seconds, her heart beating ten to the dozen. Her smile was fixed, and she felt little tears of happiness running down her face. _He felt the same._

_***_

He remained in the corridor for a few minutes, firstly dancing a silent victory dance to himself, secondly kicking himself for not getting in there and spending the night with her. After all, it wouldn't have been the first time. But things were different now. That kiss on the roof had just changed everything.

Besides, he didn't want history to repeat itself, for her to be the next in a long line of girls who didn't want to know in the morning. She was way too special for that. It had been quite a while since the last one, mainly because he'd decided not to put himself through it anymore, to not worry about it until the right person came along, and now she had! But, she wasn't the right person because the King, his closest friend, was in love with her as well. And that's why he had to be careful, no matter how much he wanted her right now, as in all probability she was unlikely to choose him over Rick, despite what she'd said earlier.

He unlocked his door and was immediately met by the disapproving glare of his older brother.

"Bertrand?" Woah, how long had he been sitting there?

Bertrand stood up as Maxwell closed the door, trying his best not to look as guilty as he felt. "You've really messed everything up this time, you know that don't you!"

"I... er.... Did you want to elaborate on that?" He must have seen them in the corridor just now. Maxwell's life was over.

"How many times have we been through the flags of Europe? Even Lady Jen would have done a better job than you did this evening." He paced around the room. "Such an embarrassment. If only I'd been back a few hours beforehand."

"Er... I'm sure they will soon forget all about it.. easy mistake.."

"As easy as throwing bruschetta at important officials?"

Maxwell sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. "How did you find out about all this.."

"I called in at the party on my way here from the airport, and immediately found myself needing to apologise for your idiocy," he raged. "Where were you anyway?"

"Ah.. we thought it best to get out of there, they really weren't happy with me."

"This is what I get when I trust you to represent our house," Bertrand sighed.

Maxwell was just relieved that Bertrand hadn't found out about the evening's other developments. He smiled to himself.

"What are you grinning at? Maxwell?"

"Oh, nothing," he said. "Just glad to be alive."

"This isn't something to be taken lightly, Maxwell," he scolded. "Am I to understand that there's been some progress on the investigation since I've been... absent?"

"Ooh, yes!" Maxwell said, going to get his phone which he'd left on charge, as it had been drained flat from all the calls earlier. He glanced at it. "Woah! Four missed calls! Better just return these.."

He came out of the bathroom a few calls later, and faced his brother triumphantly. "Well, that's narrowed it down a lot!!"

"Meaning?"

"I now have a shortlist of ten potential addresses for shop customers matching our dear friend Tariq's description!" He bounced up and down. "One of these addresses could be his!"

"I don't want to know how you obtained that information," Bertrand said.

"Oh, it was a combination of Bastien's contacts and my persistent threats," he assured him. "But I reckon we've got enough to go on now, we could go and find him! And I've just cleared it with Bastien that we can have access to the royal jet to go over there!"

"And Rick has agreed to this?"

"Yeah. He's as keen for us to clear Jen's name as we are." Maxwell was walking on air. "He can't come with us, obviously, but he's told us to go right away!"

"Well what are you waiting for?" Bertrand demanded. "Let's go and tell Lady Jen!"

Maxwell looked nervously at his brother. "But.. she might be asleep.."

"She came back from the party when you did, yes? That was only half an hour ago.. and I'm sure she wouldn't mind you waking her regarding such an exciting development?"

He nodded. "Shall I just.."

"I'll come with you," Bertrand insisted, grabbing the key card for the room.

They both stood in the corridor, and Maxwell knocked sheepishly, hoping against hope she noticed Bertrand was there before she said or did anything.

About twenty seconds passed before she opened the door. She leant on the doorframe, and grinned a seductive grin. "Boy, am I shocked to see you, Maxwell."

He looked pointedly to his left, where Bertrand stood, and then back at her, to see the realisation on her face.

"Bertrand on the other hand.."

"Yes, yes I have returned," Bertrand said. "But that's not the big news, is it Maxwell?"

The look on her face was priceless. "Er.. so what is the big news?"


	20. Tight schedule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 2 Chapter 15 when they have just arrived in LA.

After touching down on the tarmac, the four of them hurried through the airport. As they went through duty free, Maxwell waved Jen over to one of the high-end stores lining the concourse. “Hold up, Jen. This is perfect.”

“Another boutique? We’re on a tight schedule, Maxwell..”

“That’s why you need a disguise!” He handed her an elegant but casual sweater and a pair of fashionable sunglasses. “We don’t want the paparazzi or the court knowing that we’re here. Give it a try!”

“As ever, you’re right,” she said, trying the outfit on. As she emerged in it, she realised that Drake and Hana were not in the shop with them. “What do you think?”

“You look beautiful,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Aw, really?”

“You always look beautiful.”

She blushed. “You look pretty hot yourself, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows. “As you said, tight schedule…” He scuttled off, and she beamed. Life had always been fun with Maxwell around, but she had the feeling it was going to be so much more fun from now on, as she was going to get the chance to say all the little things she’d always wanted to say.


	21. A lot to think about

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 2, Chapter 15... on the ferris wheel at Coney Island.

As soon as Jones and Maxwell's car left the ground, Rick turned to Drake and Hana,a serious look on his face.

"Is there something I should know?"

Drake felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. This was it, the moment he'd been dreading, the moment he was going to have to lie, albeit by omission, to his best friend. He and Hana had anticipated this chat coming; they'd discussed this earlier when they were waiting for Maxwell to emerge from the shop, and they'd decided on a script. They'd both agreed that it wasn't their place to tell Rick that the woman he loved was in love with one of his best friends.

"About what?"

Rick glanced up. "Those two, they seem.. close."

They got into their car. Hana looked diplomatically at Drake. She knew the score, and she knew the plan.

"Of course they do," she said to Rick. "They are. In a brother-sister sort of way? They spend a lot of time together."

Rick looked across at her, and nodded. "I suppose that is to be expected."

There was a long pause. Drake exchanged a nervous glance with Hana, before Rick turned to him.

"But have either of you ever wondered.. Have they ever told you anything?"

Drake sighed. "Listen, Rick. You're talking to the wrong people here. My guess is, if you want to know if there's anything going on with Jones and Maxwell, you'd be better off talking to Jones. Or Maxwell. Not me and Hana."

Rick looked sadly back at him. "It's just I get the impression she and I are growing apart. And now.. I thought there would be nothing, no-one standing in our way now.. I keep wondering if I was mistaken?"

"But just think how desperate she's been to clear her name, to find Tariq," Hana said. "Why would she have gone to all that trouble?"

He sighed. "In clearing her name, she has given me a lot to think about. I'm so pleased for her. I couldn't help her when she needed help. Not as _others_ could." He looked upwards. "She deserved better from me, and I wonder if it's too little too late now."

Hana smiled. "My advice is, talk to her, Rick. See what she says."

Drake looked downwards to see Maxwell escorting Jones out of their car. Luckily, Rick had his back to them; if he'd seen the elated grin on Jones' face, he would have not needed to ask any further questions. 


	22. If only it wasn't so new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 2, Chapter 16... as Jen walks to meet Rick...

As Jen made her way through the streets of New York, her mind was still in overdrive. She wasn't stupid, she knew exactly what Rick wanted to talk to her about. A few months ago, this was everything that she'd wanted. A few weeks ago, she'd still known that it was her goal. Now that she'd finally admitted to herself, and then to Maxwell, her feelings for him, she was feeling in her head that this was no longer the right path.

But she had to choose Rick, didn't she? For Maxwell, for House Beaumont. It was why she had come here, what they'd been working for. It was what Maxwell had always told her she was here for. It was what she was expected to do. Hell, from the way Maxwell had reacted just now, even he expected her to do it.

If only it wasn't so new. She hadn't really had the chance to see how serious things might become. Right now, things were a little weird between them, and she didn't know if Maxwell's feelings for her were as strong as hers were for him. She thought they were. She hoped they were. She wanted to find out.

However, Rick was, without question, in love with her. What would it do to him if she turned him down? They'd both been through so much to get this far, for what if she rejected him now? She did have feelings for him to start with, she still cared for him, but she couldn't deny they had grown apart as she and Maxwell had grown yet closer.

If she chose Maxwell though, what if it didn't work out? And even if it did, would there always be a bitterness behind it, would he eventually grow to resent her for turning down the chance to become queen and bring prosperity to his house?

And what about Bertrand? After his little display earlier, she could foresee a dreadful reaction from him. Would this destroy Maxwell's already difficult relationship with his brother? Probably.

But.. if she married Rick, would she always regret it? She wouldn't be able to avoid Maxwell socially. Would it be a scandal waiting to happen? Was it fair to marry Rick when her heart belonged elsewhere?

She wished she'd had the chance to confide in Drake, or Hana, about this dilemma. But it had all happened so suddenly. She wondered what Hana would ask her. What does your heart say? What do you really want? What would Drake say to her? It's your life, Jones. Don't sacrifice your happiness for these people.

But, that would be the selfish way out. She pictured Rick standing at Constantine's bed, his defiant declaration of love, his determination to put right his father's wrongs against her for Cordonia's sake. How could all that be for nothing?

She'd arrived outside her old bar. Rick was waiting for her. He broke into a smile as soon as he saw her. "Jen."

"Rick," she said. "I'm happy to see you."


	23. Can I borrow you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 2, Chapter 17, when they arrive back from the beer garden.

"So, what's the plan for the Homecoming Ball? Big disco? Fancy outfit?" Maxwell was doing his best to make conversation with Rick without mentioning the J word. He felt that was probably a conversation best left for another time. Tonight was a happy night.

"Not so much," Rick said. "We have the costume gala coming up in a little while, remember? I have commissioned a special outfit for that. And for Drake too. Not a word to the girls."

"Ooh, my lips are sealed!" Maxwell said. "Maybe I should get in on the act, what do you think? We talking fancy dress? I could dress up as a squid, for House Beaumont.."

Rick laughed. "I think you need to look at something a little more formal than that. But I can see you as a squid."

He was totally in full idea flow now. "Wait, what if I get a formal suit designed... with like a tentacle design.. a _squid suit?_ With... wait for it.. _a squid bow tie??"_

Rick shook his head, sighing. "You're one of a kind, Maxwell."

They had reached the palace, and Maxwell glanced back to see Jen, Hana and Drake staggering behind them. "Looks like the girls are trying to keep Drake upright.."

Rick looked back, amused. "That's the only problem with Happy Drake. He can quite easily tip into Little Bit Too Happy Drake."

Maxwell laughed, and headed over. "Need any help with this one, ladies?"

Hana nodded. "He's threatening to give us both a midnight palace tour."

"Lots to see," Drake slurred. "You'll be sorry you missed it. And, I might even tell you some secrets, Jen."

"Come on," Maxwell said, as Rick and Olivia hung back too. "Think the first stop on his tour needs to be his bedroom, you reckon?"

They all headed up the stairs, and made their way into their rooms. Hana was just saying goodnight to Jen, Rick and Olivia had already said their goodnights and disappeared. Maxwell wasn't sure what to do. He really wanted five minutes with his favourite person, but Hana was still mid-conversation, and he was just hanging around awkwardly now.

"Night you two," he eventually shouted, and headed off in the direction of the room he and Bertrand were sharing. He opened it quietly, and crept in, finding Bertrand already snoring on his bed. He sat down on his bed, smiling to himself. It had been a nice evening. It was good to be back here, to dance and drink and chat with everyone. But something had been missing.

He heard his phone ping, and checked it. It was a message from Jen.

_Can I borrow you?_

Silly question. He headed back out into the corridor stealthily, and knocked on her door. She opened it before he'd even finished knocking, and ushered him in.

"Hey."

"Hey," he said, sitting down on the chair in her room, like he often did at the end of the night. Or, used to, before things had.. _developed_.

"You okay?" She was busying herself with the early stages of getting ready for bed, removing her accessories and so on. It was something he'd watched her do lots of times before.

He nodded. "Bertrand's asleep in there."

"Oh. I hope we can sort things out between him and Savannah. He's really made a mess of it, hasn't he?"

Maxwell nodded. "I'm sure you can work a bit of your love magic.."

She giggled, and walked towards him. "My love magic? I thought I'd save that for you." She put her hands on his shoulders, and kissed his neck, which made him gasp slightly. She giggled as he did.

"Well, if you insist.." he said, standing up to face her.

"I do." She kissed him softly, and then looked at him happily. "I just wanted to say, obviously there's a few people now that know about our... thing..."

He nodded, still not quite believing that their thing was a thing.

"...But I know you wanted time to think about things, and.. I just wondered if you could let me know when you've decided if you want this to be... more than a thing."

He did. He really did. But the thought terrified him.

"Thing is.." he said, slowly. Her face fell. "No, don't worry. I do want us to be a thing. I really do. I just.."

"It's the Bertrand thing, isn't it."

"It's not just the Bertrand thing," he said, honestly. "It's just.. and I knew Drake and Hana wouldn't think this, and neither would Rick.. because they know us, but, how is this going to look to everyone else?"

She frowned.

"I mean, people might think that.. with me being your sponsor originally, and then your.. adviser, I guess, will it not look like I've.. kinda.. _taken advantage _of you?" It wasn't the main factor that had prevented him from letting things happen when they might have had the opportunity to. But it was one of them.

"Maybe I _want_ you to take advantage of me," she said with a surly smile, putting her hands on his shoulders, making him shudder.

He laughed, nervously. "That doesn't really help..."

"Hey. Like you say, the people who matter to you will know that you couldn't do that. And I'm sure Bertrand won't think that either. Although, he's still not gonna like it."

He nodded. "We've got to tell him, haven't we?"

She sighed. "Yep. Better coming from you, I think."

He shuddered. "Okay. Give me a couple of days."

She sighed. "What if I can't wait a couple of days?" She perched on the desk next to him, and posed invitingly.

"Jen.."

"Okay," she said, sitting straight, and reaching for his hand. "We can take this at your pace. I've waited a long time to tell you how I feel. I can wait a few more days."

He sighed. "I'm still just trying to get my head around this, Jen. Once I do that, then.." He stood up and kissed her gently, leaning into her briefly. "Then I'll report back."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He drew away. "Night, Jen."

"Oh, before you go, how did you get on with Rick just now?"

He shrugged. "Fine? Just normal, really."

"Oh? Did you talk about.. me?"

"Nope. Didn't want to make things awkward."

She looked thoughtfully at him. "I suppose he doesn't know that you know that I told him how I feel about you."

He smiled. "And I suppose he doesn't know that I know that you told him how you feel about me either.. oh wait, that's the same thing.."

They both giggled.

"This is all a bit mad, isn't it?" she said, hugging him gently. "Why did we have to go and complicate things?"

"You started it."

"Did I, though? I think you'll find you started it when you first flew me out to Cordonia." She looked up at him, mischievously.

He didn't have an answer for that, instead pressing one last goodnight kiss to her lips.


	24. The safehouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place in Book 3, Chapter 1, when Jen is tending to Drake at the safehouse.

"Looks like the bleeding's stopped," she pointed out. "We'll have to keep an eye on it to make sure." She saw his eyelids beginning to droop. "I just need you to stay awake for a few minutes, check you don't start bleeding again."

He nodded. "Alright."

She gazed into the distance.

"Keep me talking, then," he demanded.

"What do you want to talk about?" she sighed, her stomach in knots.

"What do you want to talk about?"

She looked at him, sadly. There was only one thing, one person, on her mind right now.

"Of course you do," he said, rolling his eyes at first, then looking sincerely at her. "So talk to me about that."

She smiled, meeting his forgiving eyes. "Well. It's.. all still very new. Not many people know, so we're just taking it slow, keeping it low-key.."

He laughed, a long, ironic laugh.

"What?"

"Jones, we saw your little display at the fireworks."

"Oh.." She'd been convinced nobody could see. Had anyone else seen? Had _Bertrand_ seen?

"Good job Rick already knew, isn't it?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Has he spoken to you about it?"

"I might have prised a few words out of him on the subject," he explained, edging about uncomfortably. "After New York. He didn't want to talk to me, but I just wanted to clear the air."

She sighed. "I may have mentioned to him that you knew about us. How did that go?"

"He had his suspicions before you told him. He cornered me and Hana on the ferris wheel. Asked what was going on with you two. We'd kind of anticipated it, so we'd prepared. We didn't tell him anything, and said that he'd probably best speak to you or Maxwell if he wanted to know what was going on with you and Maxwell."

"So how did he react when you spoke to him afterwards?"

"Well, he wasn't happy, but when I told him that you'd confided in me, that you'd trusted me not to tell him. I think he understood. Hell, it made me think about the whole Savannah thing. I actually get why Maxwell didn't tell me where she was now."

That was something, at least. She sighed again. "I'd hate to have put any pressure on your friendship with Rick, Drake. I'm sorry."

He sighed. "Let's just say, his bitterness is probably aimed in a different direction for now."

Jen turned away. "What a mess."

"Christ, Jones. You could have had your pick of all of us. Rick, me, Hana.."

"Hana?"

"Don't pretend you haven't picked up on the way she feels about you."

Jen put her head in her hands. "Okay, yeah, I know. I just didn't think you did. But.."

"I get it, Jones. We can't help who we fall for. I know that only too well." He winced, and she turned back to him.

"You okay? You're not bleeding.."

"I'll survive."

She felt awful for Drake, so guilty that she couldn't return his affections, despite his sacrifice tonight. She didn't really feel as if she had enough left to continue this conversation tonight. "You should probably get some rest. Before I go though.. Drake, I owe you my life. If you ever need _anything_.."

"Nah, you just owe me a shot. Though, for the record, I prefer whisky to bullets."

"You really must be feeling better if you're making jokes," she said sincerely.

"Thanks to you," he said with a nod.

"I'll be in the next room if you need anything."

He was already snoring softly as Jen retreated to the other room. She closed the door behind her as adrenaline started to give way to fatigue. She managed a few exhausted steps and stumbled into the bed. However, sleep was not immediately forthcoming, for obvious reasons.

If only she or Drake had a phone with them, although she wasn't too sure there would be a signal here anyway, to get a message through, to check everything was okay. She just kept hearing Maxwell's frightened voice calling her name in the darkness. Where had he gone to once the lights had come back on? Something told her that if it had been possible for him to get to her, he would've. So, why hadn't it been possible?

And of course, the worst-case scenarios were at the forefront of her tortured mind. 


	25. Something held me back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 3, Chapter 1, just after Jen accepts Maxwell's proposal :)

She looked back. "I can't even see the safe house anymore. You know, we should really take advantage of this privacy.." There was that look again. Go with it, Maxwell.

He smiled and stepped toward her, capturing her in a tender kiss, bringing his arms up around her, clutching her very close to him. She sighed, grabbing his collar and pulling him towards her as she backed up against a tree. He couldn't help but smile, and a groan escaped him. "Jen.." He deepened the kiss, his body pressed tight against hers, pinning her to the trunk of the tree. She responded, gripping the back of his shirt as he shifted to kiss her neck.

He pulled back for a moment, his hands moving up to cup her face. "God, Jen.. this feels really right. Being with you, I.. I've never felt this way before."

"Me neither," she said, breathlessly.

This confused him. "Even with.."

"Never. Not with anyone." She looked at him in confusion. "Wait, who? Even with who?"

Oh, well done Maxwell, how to kill a moment. He just stared blankly back at her.

She looked at him sulkily. "If you're talking about Rick, nothing like that happened between me and Rick, nothing like this even."

"Really?" He looked at her with both surprise and delight.

"No. We never even kissed, Maxwell."

"I just thought.. all the dates, the times you have.. goodness, the times I managed to get you two some alone time.." Suddenly, he was impressed with his failure.

"And I always held back," she said, running a finger up and down his face. "He was in love with me, Maxwell. He told me that, many times. But I never loved him. I found him attractive, and he obviously wanted more from me, but I didn't feel ready to give it. Something held me back. Or, perhaps, someone." She touched his nose, playfully. "This someone."

He shook his head. "This is all so.."

"Now, where were we?"

"I think right about here.." He kissed her again, and felt his skin tingle wherever they touched.

She pulled away, and stared intensely at him. "It's like I've just found the missing piece of my puzzle."

"Exactly," he sighed. "No-one else _gets_ me the way you do. It's like there's finally a place where I fit in."

"Mmm, you mean like this?" She tugged him closer.

"Just like this." He kissed her again, like his life depended on it. God, this felt like nothing he'd ever felt before. She was just so warm, so sweet, so soft. So.. _Jen._


	26. This explains a lot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during book 3, chapter 2.

Book 3, Chapter 2

The next morning, after a slightly more standard wake up call, Maxwell and Jen were sitting upright on Jen's bed, leaning against the headboard. He was watching adoringly as she played with her ring, a grin fixed on her face. 

"It was like, I really couldn't believe it when I woke up this morning, and I had to check it was actually there, that yesterday morning actually happened?"

He smiled, reaching out for her hand to brush his fingers against the twig ring. He was actually quite impressed with himself for its ad-hoc creation. "I will get you a real one, once everything gets back to normal. I seem to think once these briefings get going, we're going to be in for a boring day." They had a meeting scheduled for midday, and another for two, various updates about security and developments. Obviously at these meetings he'd have to come into contact with Bertrand, and Rick; at the moment he was choosing to stay out of their respective ways, just while the impact of their exciting news settled. Hence, hiding up in Jen's room.

"No hurry. I love this. And I love you." She leaned in for a kiss, he eagerly responded. Her lips tasted of sugar and fudge and all things nice, she smelt intoxicating. Afterwards, she leant against him, her look contemplative.

"What are you thinking?" he asked her after a few moments.

"I'm just wondering what my mom and dad would think if they could see me now," she sighed, gazing into the distance.

He laughed. "They'd probably be yelling, 'Nooooo, marry the King you idiot!'"

She laughed in response. "Good point." She turned to face him. "But generally, I think they'd be quite happy with how things have turned out for me. I've got to see so much of the world, and now I'm going to be a Duchess, and marry the love of my life to boot. All thanks to you." She tapped him on the nose. "I think they'd have liked you."

"Were you more like your mom, or your dad?" he asked her, curious to discover more about her family.

"Um, well, I get my curls from Mom," Jen admitted. "Dad was white, but he was a funny guy. Always making us laugh. I guess it's right that girls go for men who are a bit like their dads, huh?"

"Ah, so that's who you get your snarkiness from, is it?"

"Quite probably." She sighed. "You know, I wish I'd brought my photo album with me. I could have shown you some pictures of them. I never thought, I could have popped to the storage place when we were back in New York and grabbed a few bits. But I think I had too much else going through my mind to even think about that, when we were last there."

"There _was_ quite a lot going on," he admitted with a contented sigh, running a hand through her beautiful black curly hair. She closed her eyes.

"What about you?" she asked him.

"Me? What about me?"

"What do you think your parents would make of all this? If they were still alive?"

He took a deep breath. This was probably the best moment he was ever going to get.

"What's that look mean, Maxwell?"

"Thing is, Jen... my dad _is_ still alive."

"WHAT?" She sat up, bolt upright, and gazed at him in shock.

"It's not what it sounds like," he said, feeling the pain gnawing away at the thought of his father.

"Your dad's still alive and you were going to tell me... when? And.. where is he, even?"

"Listen, Jen.."

"And why do you and Bertrand always talk about him as if he were d..."

"Because he _might as well be_, Jen."

She went quiet, perhaps realising she was crossing a line. He could understand it. It must have been a shock for her. He looked away, trying to keep it together.

"Maxwell, I'm sorry. I'm just.. this is a bit of an unexpected plot twist. And you don't have to tell me anything else if you don't want to. But.. I'm listening."

There was a long silence, and eventually he looked back at her. "Oh, Jen. I'm sorry too. I wanted to tell you, but.. it's not the sort of thing that comes up in conversation, and it's not easy for me to talk about, either. I.."

"Hey," she said, putting her arm around him. He did his best to keep it together, but the emotion of the last forty-eight hours had taken its toll. She held him tightly for as long as it took for him to compose himself.

Eventually, he shuddered out a sigh and looked back up at her. "Oh, Jen, I'm sorry.."

"Don't be," she said. "We're in this together from now on. You can tell me anything."

He nodded. "I've wanted to tell you, ever since you first came to Beaumont Manor. My dad's in a coma. He has been for fifteen years."

"Oh." She looked visibly thrown. "Oh. That's awful."

He nodded. "Yeah. He got ill when I was in my early teens. Bertrand had just gone off to college, he ended up coming back to help run the House. And Dad just got weaker, and weaker, until.. yeah."

She looked at him with all the empathy he knew she would. "Do you.. visit him?"

He shook his head. "No. It's not that we don't want to. We're not allowed to. The problem is, his immune system is so weak or something, that it isn't safe for us to visit him."

She took his hand. "Fifteen years.. that's a long time to be in a coma. Don't they eventually.. you know, switch off life support?"

Maxwell shrugged. "I guess they would have done under normal circumstances. But Dad was insistent we didn't give up on him getting better. He's not brain dead, just.. I mean, he _could_ wake up.."

Jen sighed, and squeezed his hand supportively.

"He looked into miracle cures and things, did a lot of research, there are cases where there have been recoveries many years later.. he was adamant we shouldn't give up on him." He looked at her through his tears, seeing her eyes glazing up too. "So, in that respect, we haven't. But, if we're honest with ourselves, we have."

"Doesn't this all cost money?"

He sighed, and looked at her, nodding.

"Oh. Shit." Realisation dawned on her. "This explains a lot."

"So, now you know. The real reason we're broke."

"So Bertrand's had to weigh up whether to carrying on paying his medical bills?"

"Exactly. But Dad was very clear. He wanted us to keep paying as long as we could."

"Oh, Maxwell." She pulled him into a tight, welcome embrace. "I wish you'd told me all this before. But I'm glad you have now."

"How could I have told you before? If you'd have known, you'd have felt even more pressure on you to accept Rick's proposal, don't you think?" If he was honest, it was the biggest reason he hadn't told her until now.

She tightened her hold, and he heard her sigh in realisation.

"Besides, it's not the sort of thing I go around telling people," he admitted, stroking her back absentmindedly.

"I'd like to think I'm a bit more than _people_ these days," she teased.

"You know you're my favourite person," he said, pulling back and shooting her a smile.

She giggled. "And you're mine too. You have been pretty much ever since I got here." They kissed gently, and she smiled at him afterwards. "Thanks for telling me, Maxwell. I won't mention anything to the others. I can keep House Beaumont's secrets just as well as you do"

"Well, that's the last one, you'll be pleased to know. You know _everything_ now. And anything you don't, just ask, and I promise to tell you.."

She arched her eyebrows. "Number of sexual partners?"

He blushed. "Too many. Lost count."

She looked quite shocked, but soon smiled. "Well. I appreciate your honesty."

"I mean, it's definitely going to be less than fifty... but probably more than thirty..."

"Okay, I get the picture, Mr Loverman.." She pulled him down so that they were lying down together, and rolled onto him. "But that's all going to stop now. You're going to be _mine _and_ mine alone."_

Not a problem. "And I can't wait," he said with a grin. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "But I'm afraid we should start thinking about getting to our midday briefing.." It was twenty to.

She let out a sigh (of frustration?) and rolled back so that she was beside him. "Right you are. So, what am I wearing?"

"I think you're appropriately attired for the occasion.." He really did like her in that pink dress.

"I just want to stay here with you. But I guess we have to face the world sooner or later. Is Bertrand coming to this meeting?"

"I think so," he said, standing up.

"Has he said anything to you yet?"

Maxwell shook his head, dreading the inevitable confrontation.

"I kind of feel even worse now I know why your finances are so bad.."

"Hey, we've been over this," he said to her. "He'll come around. I'll make something work. Just wait and see."

"Why? What are you up to?"

He laughed. "Oh, did I just say you could ask me anything? That might have been a tiny fib." Okay, there was one more secret. But it was a good one.

She shook her head. "Well, whatever your madcap plan is, I have total faith in you pulling it off." She stood up too. "You never did answer my question, you know."

"Which question?"

"What your parents would make of us?"

That was easy. "Dad would be _over the moon_, if he knew that I was marrying a Duchess..."

"Any old Duchess would do?" she giggled.

"Fraid so. But Mom? She just wanted me to be happy. Fall in love and find the right girl. So? I think she'd have been _even happier_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated very slightly following developments in TRH3.


	27. Someone he really didn't want to see

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 3, Chapter 2.

Two days had passed since the assassination attempt on his life, and although Rick had sat through endless meetings and security briefings about the incident at the Homecoming Ball, the reality of the situation didn't seem to have sunk in. Maybe it was because he had something else on his mind that he needed to work through first.

He'd taken himself off to sit in a private part of the palace gardens to reflect, just to have some time on his own and get his head around the events of the last week or so. So much had happened, so much had changed. A matter of days ago, he was still betrothed to Madeleine, desperately counting down to the moment that he could break off their sham of an engagement and propose to the woman he really loved. Now? Now the woman he really loved was engaged to one of his closest friends. And Rick only had himself to blame for that fact.

His head was down, but his peripheral vision noted that someone was approaching him, walking in his direction. The palace was still on high alert, and he knew his guards wouldn't be far away, but all the same he looked up, ready to defend himself if needed be. His eyes settled on someone he really didn't want to see right now.

"Rick, hey. Bastien said I might find you here."

He looked downwards again. "What can I do for you, Maxwell?"

Maxwell sat next to him. "Look, Rick. We've been friends for a long time.. a long, long, time.. and.. well, I just thought it would probably be.. helpful.. if we talked about things?"

He sighed. "She's sent you, hasn't she?"

"No. Jen doesn't know I'm here."

The mention of her name served as a renewal of the pain inside. He shook his head, keeping it well down, refusing to look at Maxwell.

"Listen. You have to believe me. I never thought there was any chance in this lifetime, or any alternative-dimension lifetime, that she would choose me over you. Not even ten days ago. I had no clue."

Rick laughed. "I believe you, Maxwell." He looked up at his friend, who was sporting that worried frown that only normally presented itself when he was getting grief from Bertrand, and smiled.

"I'm not quite sure what else to say. I know you must hate me right now."

Rick shook his head. "I don't hate you. How could I? If it wasn't for you, she would still be in New York, waitressing. And since then you've been there, by her side, this whole time, while I've been unable to support her personally. If anyone deserves to have her love, then it's you, Maxwell."

Maxwell looked thoughtfully into the distance. "I never thought about it like that."

"I've been doing a lot of thinking about it," he explained. "You may have brought her here for me, but I've pretty much driven her into your arms, through my actions and choices."

"Well, maybe I should have resisted a bit more," Maxwell said, his voice full of regret. "But.. well, hey, you know Jen."

Rick sighed, knowing exactly what he meant. He waited for Maxwell to look back in his direction, an uncertain expression on his face, and then spoke.

"What I love about you, Maxwell, is that you've never treated me like royalty. And even though I'm King now, you still don't."

Maxwell laughed nervously. "Well, I had been wondering if by stealing your girl I was committing treason.."

Rick put his hand on Maxwell's arm. "What kind of King would I be... for that matter what kind of friend would I be, if I tried to stand between two people who love each other as much as you two do?"

He looked into the distance, picturing Jen's conflicted face on that awful night in New York, seeing anew the two of them kissing passionately under the light of the fireworks, hearing again Maxwell's sobs of despair on Hana's shoulder in the safehouse, witnessing the desperate embrace they'd reunited with the next morning.

"I always thought she had feelings for you," he went on. "I just didn't realise it was mutual." Now he was recalling the little comments and signs. _Let's toast to Maxwell's excellent service. Maxwell takes very good care of me. It's just impossible to be unhappy around him. _The way her eyes used to light up whenever she mentioned him. He'd just never thought of it as a threat, until it was too late. And that had been his undoing in the end.

He looked back at Maxwell, who looked at him in astonishment. "Really?"

He nodded. "Right from the start."

Maxwell put his head in his hands. "How didn't I.. mind you, even if I had.." He moved his hands to his head. "And all that press speculation..."

Rick laughed wryly. "Oh, you have Madeleine to thank for that. She was determined to avoid any further speculation about Jen and I when she returned to court. So she put her own story out."

Their eyes met, and Maxwell laughed, while Rick looked at him in amusement.

"How did you feel about that?"

"Didn't bother me," Maxwell admitted. "Nobody believed it anyway, did they?"

"Perhaps not," Rick said, removing his arm from Maxwell's shoulder. "There was, one other thing I wanted to ask, if you don't mind?"

"Shoot."

"When did you.. how long have you felt like this about her?"

Maxwell looked warily at Rick for a moment, then held his hands up. "Alright, you got me. Since day one. I did bring her here for you. But there might have been a little bit of _I get to hang out with the hottest, sweetest, funniest girl I've ever met to boot_ about it all.."

Rick shook his head, but he was still smiling.

"It started like that. A little thing. It soon grew. To a big thing. But I had to fight it. Because we needed her to marry you. And because you loved her, too. I'd never have acted on it if she hadn't made the first move. I'm so sorry it turned out this way, Rick. I really am."

Rick stood up, and turned to Maxwell. "For what it's worth, had I been in your shoes, and you in mine, I would have done exactly the same thing." He extended a hand. "I swear this will not affect our friendship."

Maxwell stood up and took Rick's hand, shaking it happily. "I don't deserve this."

"You do," Rick said. "You're a good man, Maxwell Beaumont. Now, I need to get back. I've been gone far longer than I said I would be."

Maxwell nodded, and they walked together back towards the castle.

"Dare I ask how the Duke of Ramsford has taken the news?"

Maxwell shook his head. "Let's just say that I thought I'd come and see you for some light relief."

Rick laughed aloud. "That well?" He knew Bertrand would come around.


	28. Reader, I'm gonna marry her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 3, Chapter 2, just after Jen and Maxwell announce their engagement.

Even in the wake of the video, the crowd applauded when Jen and Rick waved their farewell. Jen stepped off the podium to resounding cheers. Before she could re-join Maxwell, Bertrand came running up to Jen.

“I saw what happened, that was a public relations miracle!” he said, proudly.

“It was a close call,” she admitted. “I’m just glad the crowd listened.”

“We were lucky this time, but this only confirms what I’ve been thinking since the attack,” he said. “Until this crisis is over, you need a new press secretary.”

“I can handle this on my own,” Jen said. “I can do this, really. I don’t want you breaking the bank for me.”

“I’m sorry, Jen, but I consider it a necessary investment,” Bertrand said, adamantly. “I think I know the perfect candidate.. but I may need to do some convincing. I’ll report back once I’ve made some preliminary phone calls.”

She nodded, watching as he wandered off, getting his phone out. She felt touched that he still felt that way, still wanted to oversee things, still saw her as representing his house. He could so easily have cut her off, now that her becoming queen was out of the equation. It made her hopeful that he would come to terms with things.

“Has he gone?” She felt Maxwell’s hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, you’re safe,” she said, leaning into him.

“You did great,” he said. “Sorry it took me so long to get here. People keep stopping me to offer their stunned congratulations.”

She laughed. “Well, _everyone_ knows now. That means I can do this whenever I like.” She leant in to kiss him gently.

“I think I can live with that.”

“Good, because I’m going in again…” Giggling, she leant to kiss him once more, and went for it this time.

When she finally pulled away, he had closed eyes and a massive grin on his moist lips. “Mmm. Hey. You know what we need to do now?” He opened his eyes.

Her eyes widened hopefully. “Just tell me.” She placed her hands around his waist.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “We need to make this Pictagram-official!”

She shook her head. “Oh, Maxwell.. who even…”

“Hey, I have _nine hundred_ followers you know. They’ve all been watching what we’ve been up to over the last few months. Shouldn’t we give them the scoop before they read it in the press?”

She nodded. “Okay, okay. How do you want to do this?”

“I think we need a selfie of you with a ring on it,” he said.

She produced her finger eagerly. “You just want to show off your twig-work skills.”

“Well, it serves two purposes, don’t’cha think?”

Jen tried to take a picture. “No, it doesn’t look right.. I need you in it too..”

He leant in and held onto her, excitedly. “Ohmygod, this is such a big moment..”

“Bigger than the moment just now when I announced our engagement to the whole of Cordonia?”

“You have no idea. I have followers in the UK, Jen! And America. Ooh, and Luxembourg..”

She glanced at him. “Who do you know in Luxembourg?”

“I don’t know anyone in Luxembourg. I do get a lot of people thinking they’ve stumbled upon some sort of male strip show page. Eventually they complain about the lack of nudity and leave.”

She laughed. “Well, when you have such a ridiculous handle as _thefullbeaumonty, _I don’t know what you expect!”

She took the snap, and showed it to him.

“Perfect. PERFECT. Right. Let me get it on the gram right now, before everyone sees us all over their newsfeeds courtesy of Ana and Donnie.” He took his phone back, and tapped buttons furiously for about thirty seconds. “There. Done.”

Jen’s own phone beeped. He’d set her up with a notification to his Pictagram long ago. She produced it from her little bag, and saw the picture pop up. “Awww.” She read the text below.

_Reader, I’m gonna marry her! @realladyjenjones #jenandmaxwell #littleblossom #favouriteperson #futuremrsbeaumont #luckiestmanintheworld #yesimadethatring _

She looked up at him. “That’s the cutest! I’m sure your nine hundred followers are gonna go wild!”

“Oooh…” He was scrutinising his own screen. “I seem to have _eleven_ hundred now…. ohmygosh, I never realised the effect marrying a Duchess would have on my own fame! How many followers do you have anyway?”

“I don’t know, I never really looked, I don’t really post much, still getting used to how it works..” She had a quick look. “Oh. Nine _thousand_.”

“That’s fighting talk, that is,” he said with a glare.

“Fight me then,” she grinned.

He put his phone away, then put a hand on her arm. She blocked it. He brought a leg closer. She did the same. Next thing, his lips were on her neck. She wasn’t going to fight that.


	29. Cordonia's most

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 3, Chapter 3, at the end of the drinking game.

"I've got one. Who is Cordonia's most likely to talk to animals?"

Madeleine didn't even pause for thought. "Ooh, it's Hana. She's practically a Disney Princess already. She's stupidly sweet and perfect and.. wait did I say that out loud?" She giggled into her drink.

"If anyone's a Disney princess, it's Jen with her Cinderella story," Hana said. "From waitress to Duchess.."

Jen nodded, feeling nicely relaxed now as she leant into Maxwell again. "Yes, and marrying a Lord.."

"Well, I'm going to vote for myself," Maxwell said. "Mostly because that would be an awesome power."

"To be clear, Hana never said they'd talk back," clarified Drake.

"Aww.."

"Jen, what do you think?"

"I think Maxwell too," she said, looking at him giddily.

"At least Jen believes in me," he said, looking back at her with his sparkly blue eyes.

"I sure do.."

"So what happens if it's a split vote?" asked Drake.

"Everyone drinks!" Hana said.

"Well, that's game," Maxwell said, finishing his drink.

"Hey, that was really fun," Jen said. "Thanks for teaching me to play, Maxwell." She was starting to wish they were the only ones here.

"This _has_ been fun, though I think it was mainly about the alcohol, not the company," Madeleine said, tipping her drink upside down. "Since the alcohol is gone, I think I'll get back to my party. I'm sure the other _two_ guests need to be entertained." Madeleine began cheerfully wobbling her way back to the estate on her own.

"We should probably head back too," Drake said. "Come on, Hana." He winked in Jen's direction as Hana stood up and they wandered behind Madeleine.

Jen sighed. "So that was interesting, huh?"

"It sure was," said Maxwell. "I've never seen Madeleine like that before!"

"Yeah, me neither," Jen said. "She did open up a little, so hopefully that'll make a difference."

"I'm sure it's going to work out." He still looked a little despondent, despite the obvious affection she was showing him right now.

"Something on your mind?" she asked him gently.

He laughs. "Ah, it's nothing."

"No, come on, share."

"Just watching you and Drake dancing the waltz just then. I mean, I've seen you dancing with lots of people but.."

She sighed. She'd wondered if he'd be a little bit sensitive about this. It wasn't something they'd ever spoken about, but she'd often got the feeling before they got together that Maxwell had wrongly thought she had a thing for Drake. Probably no wonder, with all the _I'm falling for someone else_ hints that he had completely misinterpreted. Who else was there? Anyway, it was good that he'd mentioned this now, rather than bottle it up.

"I taught him the moves earlier," she admitted. "That's where we were after he stormed off after the thing with Neville. We cooked up the plan to put Neville in his place. I didn't think you'd mind.. I probably should have asked you.. "

"No, I don't mind, and you didn't need to," he protested. "I just.. it got me thinking about when_ I_ taught you those moves."

Jen smiled shyly and kissed him in the cheek. "Every time I dance that waltz, I think about that first time too. Don't worry, I might have taught Drake the moves, but you taught me much more that night. I think that might have been the start of all this, you know."

"Really? That long ago?"

She nodded.

"You said something to me when we were dancing that night, I thought you were winding me up. Well, I told myself you were winding me up."

"I wasn't," she said, putting an arm around him. "I was deadly serious."

He laughed, looking at her nervously. "I kinda wish we could go back to that night sometimes. And all those other nights. Now that I know how you felt."

She smiled. "Yeah, I'd go with that. Still not convinced it would have changed anything then though, with the way things were."

He scratched his head. "I guess it _really_ wouldn't have been appropriate back then.. us being a thing.."

"Would have been fun though," she purred. "We could have had a secret, torrid affair.."

He laughed. "Sneaking around, making sure we never got caught.."

She giggled. "Would have made life _even more_ interesting." She leant towards him, stopping just before her lips reached his. "You know, Maxwell, I had one more question I never got to ask in the drinking game. Who is Cordonia's most likely to kiss me right now?"

"That would _definitely_ be me." Maxwell slid a hand around her waist, pulling her close. His lips finally met hers and she giggled against them. "What's so funny?" he asked. When he spoke, it tickled her lips.

"Kissing you just makes me happy."

"You're sure it's not just the Pineapple Paradise punch?"

"You never did tell me why you've not made that for me before."

He laughed. "Because I knew you'd love it, and drink lots of it, and get yourself all silly.. and I might not be able to resist you."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Hang on a minute. You said you had no idea I liked you in that way until that night on the roof."

"I didn't. But if I was drinking it too, I might have done the same, and made a complete idiot of myself."

"Nah. You couldn't have. Drunk Jen would have welcomed Drunk Maxwell's advances, any day of the week."

"Well, you see where I'm coming from, don't you? So, I think I was right. It's the Pineapple Paradise Punch that's made my favourite person happy tonight."

"I'm not so sure. I still think it was the kissing. Let's try again and see." She kissed Maxwell again and his arms tightened around her. One of her hands tangled in the fabric of his clothes while the other found the bare skin at the back of his neck, relishing the warmth. After a breathless moment, she pulled away. God, she loved him. "Definitely the kissing."

"If you need to check again, let me know."

Just then, they heard raised voices coming from the ballroom.

"Oh," sighed Jen. "Madeleine. Sounds like she and Adelaide are arguing." She looked at Maxwell, knowing what he would say before he said it. "And this is where you say, this could be your chance to help them resolve their family drama and get them to our wedding! Go, go, go! Etc etc?"

"Got it in one," he laughed. "Come on."


	30. Look what I found..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place at the start of Book 3, Chapter 4, as the gang head to Portavira.

"Look what I found!" 

Hana had been for a wander through the train, and on returning to the compartment she, Jen, Maxwell and Drake were sharing, presented Jen with a gift.

"Oh my god..." Jen cringed. "I don't think I can look."

Drake picked up the magazine. "Oh, well done Hana, you little genius."

"I found it on one of the seats," she said, as Drake started to look for the offending article. "I thought we should all have a look to see just how accurate Cordonia Now! Magazine's account of this, er, _story of forbidden love _is, in the interests of, well, mainly mine and Drake's entertainment.."

Maxwell arrived back in the compartment to see Jen with her head in her hands. "What?"

Drake held open the magazine, revealing a large picture of Jen and Maxwell taken during the engagement tour. "You two are the talk of the gossip columns."

"We are? Brilliant!"

"No, not brilliant," Jen sighed. "You ever read these sort of magazines? How they twist the truth? Oh, of course you have.."

Maxwell grabbed the magazine, and began to read the story. "_This week, Cordonia's newest Duchess, Lady Jen Jones of Valtoria, announced her engagement to Lord Maxwell Beaumont of Ramsford. While the news may have come as a surprise to some, Cordonia Now!'s readers will be familiar with their love story, which is rumoured to have begun during the social season while Lady Jen was competing for King Rick's hand... _Oh I say..."

Hana giggled. "Keep going, Maxwell, don't stop there!"

"_Lord Maxwell has never been far from Lady Jen's side since her arrival in Cordonia, and it is thought that romance blossomed during Lady Jen's stay at Beaumont Manor after her apparent fall from grace (for which she has now been cleared of any wrongdoing). However, Cordonia Now! understands that their relationship was never confirmed at this stage due to concerns of how it would be perceived due to House Beaumont's sponsorship of Lady Jen during the social season.._ Ooh, the drama!"

"How about it was never confirmed because it _didn't exist?"_ suggested Jen.

"Oh, come on Jones. Semantics." Drake was enjoying this.

"Yeah, Drake's right," Hana said. "It was only a matter of time."

Maxwell continued. "Ooh... _A 'source' said, 'Jen and Maxwell were almost inseparable on King Rick and Countess Madeleine's engagement tour, and clearly happy and relaxed in each other's company. They would laugh off any press speculation with knowing glances at each other. We all knew there was something going on._'"

Hana gasped. "Penelope?"

"I reckon," Jen said, shaking her head.

"Ooh, that little traitor," laughed Maxwell. "Just wait till we see her... in about an hour!"

"No, don't say anything," Jen pointed out. "Madeleine made her say it all, remember?"

"I like this picture," Maxwell commented. "Look at you looking at me there. How didn't I know?"

Drake rolled his eyes. "I'm still trying to work that one out. But if you didn't get the message after she decided to stay the night in your tent with you on the camping trip, you were never going to.."

"DRAKE!" Jen shrieked.

"What?" This was news to Hana, but looking at the other three, it was clearly factual.

"I told her that you were never going to get hints. I'm guessing the next time she was a little more direct."

Maxwell laughed nervously. "Hey, is that the time? Aren't we meant to be meeting Madeleine in the boutique, Jen?"

Jen looked up at him "We?" They exchanged a look. "Oh, yes. Yes, we are. Let's leave these two to their.. reading."

They left the compartment, and Hana looked at Drake. "And when were you going to tell me about that development?"

"Ah, I was sworn to secrecy at the time, Hana. Guessed she wouldn't mind me telling you now."

She smiled. "So, how did you find out? Did Jen tell you?"

He laughed. "I might have witnessed her crawling out of his tent at six in the morning."

Hana shook her head. "Oh dear. Poor Maxwell. I bet he didn't know what to do with himself. Good job nobody told Cordonia Now! about that little incident." She sighed, looking at the pictures. "I can understand all these magazines running these articles, you know. It is a beautiful story. They're so lucky to have found each other the way they did."

"You'll find your knight in shining armour, Hana."

Hana raised her eyebrows. "Maybe I'm not looking for a knight."

Drake nodded, knowingly. "Well. Your dame on a white horse, then?"

She smiled at him fondly, not so sure about that. "Yeah. Maybe." 


	31. Nine minutes and twenty-five seconds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 3, Chapter 5, before the polo game.

He knocked on the door, grinning to himself. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd done this over recent months, but today was hopefully going to be a little bit different.

She looked at him with a sleepy smile as she opened the door. "Well, if it isn't you."

"It's me," he said.

"Why so early?"

"Well, as you know, we've got an early start with the polo game and all.."

"It's six thirty, Maxwell. This is early, even by early standards."

He nodded his head in the direction of her room, and she smiled again, and let him in. He sat down on the bed.

"I just thought it'd be nice just to have ten minutes with my favourite person, you know.. before the day starts. It's going to be a busy one.."

She raised her eyebrows. "So I'm giving up my beauty sleep for you.." She sat down next to him, and put her arms around his neck.

"That might be so, but one so beautiful as you needs not worry about such things.."

"Flattery will get you everywhere.."

He closed his eyes in bliss as she kissed him. Afterwards, she gestured to the pillows on her bed. "So, do you want to stay for a cuddle?"

"Sounds good. Only for nine minutes and twenty-five seconds though. Then you have to get up."

"Get in here."

He kicked his shoes off and joined her in bed, gently holding her, still feeling like there was something a little bit forbidden about all this. He knew there wasn't, but it was seemingly more difficult for him to adjust to their new relationship than it was for Jen.

"This is nice," he said eventually, knowing it was a bit of an understatement as soon as he'd said it.

"It is," she agreed.

They lay in comfortable silence for a few more moments, until she spoke again. "I get that you want to wait a bit longer before, you know, but there's no reason why we can't stay together on this tour? Nobody would mind.."

There was a very good reason, and it wasn't one he could share with her, well not yet anyway.

"Maxwell?"

He just needed to buy himself a bit more time to get everything just how he wanted it. "Hey, we'll be married and living together soon enough. A couple more weeks isn't going to kill us."

She sat up, a pout on her lips. "Then maybe the odd night?"

He smiled softly, looking up at her. "I think that could be arranged."

The pout disappeared.

"Hey, where'd you go? Get back down here!"

She obliged, leaning in for a kiss as her head found the pillow next to where he lay. 


	32. Business to discuss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 3, Chapter 8, just after the wine tasting scene.

"Thank you for sharing all of this with us Ezekiel," Penelope commented as they reached the door. Maxwell watched her expression carefully. There was definitely a spark between the two of them.

"Oh yeah. Of course. Any time," Ezekiel stammered.

Jen and Maxwell hung a few steps behind them, slowly strolling arm in arm into the house.

"Man, I'm hungry," Maxwell said. "It's a long time since lunch.."

"Always thinking with your stomach," sighed Jen, patting his stomach affectionately.

"You didn't manage to get Ezekiel to come to the wedding, did you?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm working on it."

"Ooh! I didn't tell you!" He grinned widely at her. "I have wedding news! I invited some of my friends from college to the wedding, and I heard back from them this morning! They're coming!"

"Oh!" She looked at him curiously. "I've never heard you mention any college friends before.."

He smiled, self-consciously. He knew they were going to completely show him up. But it had been far too long since he'd seen them. "They don't really follow Cordonian current affairs, so when I mentioned it in our group chat, they did a bit of googling, and then they all decided they were coming!"

"I bet," Jen said with a smile. "Well, I can't wait to meet them all!"

"I can't wait for you to meet them all either," he said. He knew five of them were definitely coming, but as the sixth member of the _Sexy Seven _hadn't said anything on the group chat_, _he had to assume she probably wasn't. Which might be for the best. "They're just coming to the evening reception, but I thought we could meet up with them a couple of days later before they all fly back!"

At that, Penelope called back to them. "So, Jen, did you decide on a wine for your wedding?"

She smiled and nodded. "We're going with the sparkling.."

He heard a hiss behind him. "_Maxwell!"_

He turned, recognising that voice anywhere. "Bertrand?"

Bertrand stood, gesturing for him to keep quiet. Jen hadn't noticed that Maxwell had stopped, and continued into the dining room with Penelope and Ezekiel. Once she had gone, Bertrand approached him.

"We have business to discuss," he said.

"Can't we discuss it over dinner?" Maxwell hadn't been joking when he'd told Jen he was starving.

Bertrand shook his head. "This way."

He led him into one of the drawing rooms, and sat down on one of the sofas. Maxwell sat opposite him, waiting for him to talk.

"So when you say business.." He wondered if that was code for an argument.

"Yes. I've been giving some thought as to your recent offers of.. assistance."

"Really?" Maxwell was surprised. He thought that they had fallen on deaf ears, along with all his apologies and justifications over the Jen situation.

Bertrand looked away. "I've been spending more time with Savannah and Bartie recently, and I seem to have fallen behind with the House Beaumont bookkeeping. The accountants are chasing me and.."

Maxwell's eyes lit up. "Hey, I've done that before! It was fun! I love a spreadsheet, me."

Bertrand frowned. "The last time you did it, the accountants charged us double to sort out the mess you made of it."

"Oh..."

Bertrand sighed. "But that was a long time ago, and... Savannah says I need to be more trusting in others."

A small smile formed on Maxwell's lips. Savannah was going to be a good thing for Bertrand, once he got his head around everything.

"So.. I appreciate you have a lot on your own plate, but if the offer of assistance is still there.."

"Of course," Maxwell said. "I'll do it. We get plenty of down-time on this tour, I'm sure I can fit it in between now and the Costume Gala.." He grinned, remembering that his costume was almost ready. "Talking of which, how do you fancy me and you wearing matching suits for that? It's not too late for me to order another..."

Bertrand raised his eyebrows. "As you will soon see for yourself, I hardly think the House Beaumont financial situation calls for such frivolry," he spat. "_You_ might be marrying into a wealthy duchy but some of us don't have that privilege."

Maxwell stood up. "And here it is, Bertrand. And if we never talk about it, how can we get things straight?"

Bertrand stood up too, and took his brother by the arm. "Sit down, Maxwell."

Maxwell glared suspiciously at Bertrand, and they both sat back down.

Eventually, Bertrand spoke, his voice surprisingly calm. "I am angry, Maxwell. You knew I would be. You knew how crucial it was to both of us that Jen accepted Rick's proposal."

Maxwell shook his head. "Oh, you think I don't know? You think I haven't been fighting how I feel about her for months? You think she hasn't been doing the same? We're both grown-ups, we know how our actions have affected others. You don't think we both felt bad for Rick? It was not an easy decision for either of us to make, Bertrand.."

"How long had it been going on?"

Maxwell sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Not as long as you think.."

"How long?"

"The night you turned up in New York. The night of the UN party. That was the night it started. I swear to you. Nothing happened before that night."

Bertrand looked suspiciously at him. "I don't believe you, Maxwell."

"Of course you don't, because you don't trust me! You don't trust anyone!" Maxwell stood up again. "And this comes back to Savannah's whole point.."

Bertrand just looked at him, sadly.

"Listen, I may have been head-over-heels in love with her for.. some time, but I never once believed she could see me like that. Not until that night, when she was brave enough to tell me. That took guts, Bertrand. Surely you can see that."

Bertrand nodded.

"And the reason she was brave enough to tell me, is because I'd just told her that I didn't want her to sacrifice her happiness for me and you. If she wasn't happy, that she should forget about the fact that she was supposed to marry Rick for House Beaumont. I just.. when I said that, I had no idea _why_ she wasn't happy."

"That's... touching," Bertrand stammered.

"I really am sorry, Bertrand. But.. I love her. God, I love her so much."

Bertrand nodded, contemplatively. "I understand."

"You do?"

"I would do anything for Savannah and Bartie. I couldn't imagine having to pretend I felt otherwise."

Maxwell nodded. "Good to hear it. And I will make things up to you, Bertrand. I promise. Just wait and see." All these caffeine-fuelled nights would soon be a memory. He was nearly there.

Bertrand stood up. "Very well. But now I must take my leave.."

"You've only just got here.. Jen will probably be out looking for me any minute, why don't you stay for dinner?"

"_Don't _tell the others I was here," Bertrand frowned. "I will see them all tomorrow.. when I deliver the bookkeeping records to you. And, keep this to yourself."

Maxwell nodded, although he would be confiding in Jen about it. "Fair enough. But will you stay for the art exhibition? Jen's putting me in charge of social media, I've got to hype something up overnight.." Good job Bertrand hadn't brought the work over just yet.

"Perhaps. But I do need to go now, so I can see Bartie before he goes to sleep." He headed for the door. "Oh, and Maxwell?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't mess this up," he said, sternly, and marched out of the room, leaving Maxwell to wonder whether he was talking about the bookkeeping or something else entirely. If it was the something else, then he really didn't need anyone else to warn him, least of all Bertrand. The voices inside his head were telling him that on an hourly basis.


	33. The truth comes out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during book 3, chapter 8, just before Jen and Maxwell head out on their cinema date.

It was early evening now, and he was stuffed after all that food (and gelato!) buthe hadn't been able to find Hana, Drake and Rick. So he was wandering around,unsure what to do with himself. Sure he could take himself upstairs and make astart on all that bookkeeping, or maybe make some progress on his other..project.. but, if he was honest, he wanted Jen to come and find him, as soon aspossible. He stood looking at one of the oil paintings on the wall, but to behonest, his mind was elsewhere.

His mind was spinning after those kisses by the gelato stall. He just wanted more.. needed more now. Ideas of when, where, how were spinning through his head. But, that little voice that still kept saying "don't fuck this up" was telling him that something wasn't quite right. They'd never even been on a proper date. Yes, they were already engaged, and this timeline was all messed up compared to what was typical, but, wouldn't that be a nice gesture? They didn't have anything on the itinerary for tonight.. obviously tomorrow was the big night, the Costume Gala.. now that was an exciting prospect in itself.. but what about if...

"Any particularly astute observations to share?"

Crap, he had no observations. He had to come up with one quickly. "Mostly I was thinking this 1800s lady looks like Gloria Merina in Dream Thrill. Sort of uncanny."

Jen joined him by the painting, and looked the woman over. "Definitely Gloria Merina, but a little earlier than Dream Thrill. I'd say more like when she was in Deadliest Hunt."

Woah. How many conversations had they had, and he'd never realised.. "You like movies?"

"Of course I like movies. Who doesn't like movies?"

"Well, Bertrand says they're frivolous dalliances focussed disproportionately on fabricated plights of the everyman.. and I'm _paraphrasing_."

She looked at him. "You know, Maxwell, if you like movies so much, there's nothing stopping _us_ from going to the movies together some time, right?"

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. "In that case, there's this killer film playing tonight we have _got_ to see. It's called.. you ready for this? Stab Spectre 7, Exsanguination!"

She looked blankly at him. "I'm guessing that's a horror movie."

"It's got everything! Horror, suspense, romance.. you have my personal guarantee that this will be your favourite movie ever. Plus, it would officially be our first official date.." He took her by both hands, and looked pleadingly at her.

"That sounds very official," she agreed.

"So, what do you say? Should we hit the theatre together? There's nothing on tonight's itinerary, and to be quite honest I'm dying to spend some alone time with my favourite person."

"Likewise," she admitted. "Let's do it. Even if it is a horror movie."

"Yesss!" He kissed her enthusiastically. "Did you want to change before we go?"

She looked down at what she was wearing. "Do you think I need to?"

"Up to you. You never look anything but beautiful to me. It's about whatever you feel best wearing.."

"Okay, I might just.."

"I'll get a car sorted," he said. "Meet you outside in five?"

She turned up outside five minutes later in that outfit she'd worn the first night they'd met, yes, the "the waitress is hot" outfit. And she did look hot. Very hot. "Alright, I'm ready."

"Hop in," he said, looking her up and down, impressed beyond belief.

The car drove off from the estate, it was just a short journey to the nearest theatre.

"I remember that outfit," he commented.

Her face lit up like Times Square. "Ha, yeah. Not the best outfit for Kismet, but I thought it'd do.."

"Let's just say it does a lot more you than that uniform did."

She laughed. "I should hope so, Maxwell. Was that the moment you decided you liked me? When you saw me in this?"

He shook his head. "No. But that was the moment I decided I _wanted_ you."

She looked shocked. "Maxwell Beaumont.."

"What? Just telling it like it is.."

She giggled. "Does it still have the same effect?"

"It.. might do.."

She leant in to kiss him, all too briefly. "Well. From then to now. Our first date. To the movies."

"I hope it goes better than my last first date," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Spill."

He laughed. There was no point in hiding anything from her. "Well, it was our first official date. We'd kinda, hooked up a few times.. and I'd stayed over hers one of those times.. so things were going pretty well."

She threw him a grumpy look.

"But then I invited her to one of the balls. It was a couple of years ago. Think it must've been the ball at the end of the social season. And.. I introduced her to Leo and Rick."

Jen giggled. "Okay. I think I know where this is going.."

He laughed. "It soon became very clear that the lovely lady on my arm was, shall we say, attempting to work her way up the social ladder. So, that was the end of her."

"Too right," Jen said, running her hand through his hair soothingly. "I know I'm just bitter and jealous of anyone lucky enough to get that close to you, but I hate her already."

He laughed. "Yeah. And it wasn't the first time that had happened. That's kind of one of the main reasons why I just got fed up with it all. Decided I wasn't very good at it."

She blushed. "Oh?"

He laughed, and blushed too. "Not at.. that. Never had any complaints in that department."

"Good to know," she said, biting her lip, and he felt his heart fluttering like crazy.

"I mean, at the whole dating thing. Nobody ever seemed to stick around long enough. I just felt like I was doing something wrong."

She leant back and looked thoughtfully at him. "I guess if they didn't really know you that well, you might have come across as a bit of a... player?"

He laughed. "What are you saying?"

"You know. Hooking up with them in a club, giving them a _nice time_.. maybe that was all they were looking for from you? Because they'd already decided what sort of person they were dealing with.." She put her arm around him. "Maxwell, I love you, but having seen you in action that first night we met, I can just picture you on the hunt for laaaaaaadies...."

He gasped in mock outrage and prodded her in the arm. "Hey, what else was I to do? I guess I'd been conditioned not to look for a serious relationship outside the nobility anyway. And I guess that's pretty much how I'd been at college." He sighed. With one obvious exception. "But when I came back to Cordonia, the dating pool for a Cordonian lord is kinda.. _limited_. That's why I eventually resorted to bringing over American waitresses and arranging for Rick to make them duchesses."

Her eyes widened playfully. "The truth comes out..."

"So yeah. I just decided not to push it, just have fun with my friends and enjoy being single. There was no pressure on me to find anyone. I didn't really feel like I was missing out too much after a while. Until the night I found you."

"Yeah?" She looked seductively at him.

"Yeah. Then everything changed. From then all I could think about was how I just wanted to spend every second I possibly could with you. And I'd never felt like that before."

She licked her lips. "I guess with the whole Rick thing, I didn't realise it so much, but even at the start I enjoyed your company and just felt, like it was _right_ to be with you. And it didn't make much sense to me, in my head, to go off and have these little meetings with him, when I could have been spending that time with you. It's like my heart knew before my head."

"Same," he sighed. "And that's why I was so rubbish when we were back in New York. I couldn't get my head around things, even though my heart knew it was right. But, my head is together now. And, this first date is going to be the best first date ever!!"

The car turned and began to slow.

"Looks like we're nearly there.." Jen said, looking out of the window.

The car stopped, and he hopped out to get the door for her. "M'lady."

"My lord," she grinned.

"Shall we?"


	34. Together this time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place at the beginning of book 3, chapter 11, at a safehouse.

Maxwell was wide awake. He couldn't sleep, as he knew what would happen if he did, nightmares would happen. He had to keep awake, to make sure she was there, she was safe, she was with him. He was not going to let her go.

She had sobbed herself to sleep eventually. The horrors she had seen tonight would not leave her for some time, given how close she'd been to the collapsing roof, and how she'd seen Constantine's death right in front of her eyes. The things she'd told him, as they lay together in the safehouse, had been awful. The only blessing was that thankfully, they were together this time, rather than apart.

He ran his fingers through her hair, gently so as not to wake her. What had happened earlier that evening had strengthened their bond, there was no doubt about that. He'd often wondered if he'd ever been in love before, it was a question Jen had asked him what seemed like a _long_ time ago now, but this evenings events had finally given him an answer. He couldn't believe how different, how amazing, how special it had been in comparison with the experiences he'd been drawing on. And how freaking hot, of course. It did make him wish he hadn't held back for so long. Oh well, they had all their lives to make up for that lost time, and he fully intended to.

But with the events later that evening, he'd revisited his own personal torture, not being able to get to Jen the night of the first assassination attempt. It had happened again, and for a few unthinkable moments he'd pictured her as the one lying under the pile of rubble, an outcome that could have been just as possible tonight. He couldn't lose her. Not now. He held her tightly. This time, he'd waited for her once they got outside the building. Despite Bastien's ire, he wasn't going anywhere without her, and luckily Drake and Hana had backed him up, knowing what he'd been through last time.

Once Jen had been safely rescued from the crumbling ballroom, coughing up dust but otherwise thankfully unharmed, the four of them had been transported to this safehouse, with Hana and Drake each having taken a sofa. Chance hadn't been at the palace this time, luckily, he'd been at the palace stables with Penelope's poodles being looked after by their staff for the duration of the Gala. Bertrand and Savannah had already left the palace before the explosion.

Rick was elsewhere; presumably with his brother and stepmother. Maxwell knew what Rick was going through; although his own father was still technically alive, his absence had left a painful gap which often flared up when Maxwell was least expecting it. It was something Maxwell and Jen had spoken about at length, as having (well practically, in his case) lost both parents was another thing they had in common, something they now had in common with Rick too.

He shut his eyes, and tried to think of happy thoughts. Like earlier this evening. (No, wait, don't think about that in too much detail, Jen's asleep..) The Vegas bachelor/bachelorette party he was planning (shh, a surprise for Jen), the wedding, mainly the thought of life to come. His project coming to fruition, hopefully providing him with the opportunity to atone for what he'd done to Bertrand. But then the bad thoughts crept back in. What if? Who had done this? What would they do next? All questions that demanded to be answered. No doubt, the Crown would seek to answer them in good time. But he knew that they, he and this incredible woman sleeping in his arms, would be looking to get answers in their own way. Together.

He opened his eyes again, and watched her as she slept. She was so beautiful. Still in her feathered dress, that he'd removed twice since she'd put it on this afternoon. He was still trying to get his head around that. At least he'd wake up with her tomorrow morning, for the second time. Last time that happened, he remembered thinking that it would probably never happen again. This time, he didn't have to think like that. Although, to wake up with her, of course, he had to sleep at some point, didn't he? And actually.. he was feeling more like he could do that now. He pulled his arms around her even more tightly, and felt himself starting to drift off. He wasn't going anywhere this time. He was staying with her. Always.


	35. Senses spinning in spirals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment also takes place at the beginning of book 3, chapter 11, at the safehouse.

She woke up with a jump, sitting up straight in the bed.

_Where am I? Am I safe? Where’s.._

_Maxwell._

He was stirring due to her sudden movement; his arms angled upwards from where she had inadvertedly escaped from them due to her abrupt relocation, his eyes not quite open yet.

_But I didn’t want to escape._

He rubbed his eyes, and sat up next to her, seemingly sensing her panic, and soothing it effortlessly with a gentle stroke to her face.

“Good morning, little blossom.”

She could feel herself glowing. “You stayed with me..”

“Course I did, silly.”

She pulled him into a tight hug, and started to sob. And then she realised that this was exactly how she’d spent her last wakeful moments before eventually falling into an exhausted sleep here, in his arms, in a double bed in the single bedroom of the safehouse, several hours ago.

And then she remembered why she was sobbing. And she sobbed some more.

“Oh… Constantine… he’s….”

“Hey… it’s okay Jen. I’m here. We’re both safe. I promise.”

“I love you, Maxwell,” she sniffled into his shoulder.

“And I love you too.”

And that was when her memory jumped back just a little further.

She pulled away, and gave him a longing look. “I just remembered what else happened last night.”

He blushed. “Well, funnily enough, that’s something I’m never gonna forget.”

She closed her eyes and savoured the memory of his body against hers; the movement of his fingers; the scent and the warmth of his skin, and the overwhelming feeling of truly being one with him. Of course she’d known he wouldn’t disappoint. What she hadn’t known was that it could be that good.

His leg brushed against hers, and set her senses spinning in spirals again.

“Shall I go and see what’s going on?” he asked, getting out of bed. He quickly pulled on his trousers and grabbed his white dress shirt, beginning to button it up. She watched with interest.

“Come back though,” she said.

“Will do.” He kissed her gently on the lips, before heading out of the room.

She glanced down at the floor, seeing his squid suit thrown down, bow tie and all, in a heap below her. She smiled.

But then she remembered the way the wall had crumbled, and the ceiling had collapsed, and the clouds of dust threatening to envelop her and Rick…

She remembered shouting for Maxwell, calling his name…

Bastien had got her out of there; she’d stumbled out of the palace doors and desperately collapsed into Maxwell’s arms; and then she, Maxwell and Hana had hopped into Drake’s car and headed here on Bastien’s instructions. It wasn’t the same safehouse. It was a different one. But, it was similar.

And, quite appropriately, she’d never felt more safe than she had last night, falling asleep in her fiance’s arms for the very first time. Well, the second time. But the first time was in the before-time.

The door opened and he came back in. He closed it, and leant back against the door.

“Hey. We have to stay here a bit longer. Mara’s going to come for us this afternoon. Till then, we’re grounded.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “This is serious déjà vu.”

“At least we’re together this time,” he told her. “The last time we were here, it killed me.”

“Is this the same place you were last time?”

“Yeah. I slept on the floor down there with Chance.” He pointed to where his suit lay. “Hana had the bed. I don’t know what I’d have done without her, that night, you know.”

Jen smiled. “I’m glad she was there for you. I had Drake to keep me sane. But I don’t ever want to relive that experience.”

“Same.”

The smell of something tasty came wafting under the door. “We got food?”

“Hana’s on it,” he explained.

“Of course she is,” Jen said with a smile. “I’m guessing it’s too much to ask if she brought me a change of clothes again this time?”

He smiled bashfully. “Well that was my idea last time, and we all got rushed away quickly… so I think you’re stuck with the phoenix dress… although it is lovely…”

She wasn’t having that. She stood up and walked towards him, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Well, that might be true, but I don’t necessarily have to be stuck _in_ it, given that we’ve got nowhere to go and time to kill..”

“Mmhmm..” That tortured, frustrated expression she was used to whenever they got this close was gone; it was replaced with an eager smirk which she found incredibly sexy.

“And I _was_ promised a repeat performance last night… but then with everything that happened….” She sighed. She’d somehow managed to kill the moment again. “Oh, but then I can’t stop thinking about what happened to Constantine..”

“Hey, I get that,” he said soothingly, putting his hands around her waist, giving her tingles. “You don’t see someone get killed right in front of you every day. I’m just… oh Jen, it doesn’t bear thinking about… I couldn’t have… if anything had happened to you….”

His stare was so intense; and their bond was stronger than ever now.

She kissed him furiously, and fumbled with his buttons; he was by now an expert in removing her phoenix dress and it was soon on the floor with his squid suit, for the third time in twenty-four hours. 


	36. Return to the palace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place at the beginning of Book 3 Chapter 11

Mara came for them the following afternoon, to tell them that other than the ballroom, the rest of the palace had been secured and was safe for them to return to. The King's Guard were still assessing how the bombs had been planted in the ballroom, and a full investigation would take place, but for now the site was clear, and works to repair the roof and refurbish the ballroom would take place after Constantine's funeral, in a few days' time.

As the four of them wandered with Mara back towards the palace, still all in their Gala outfits, Jen's eyes fixed on the scaffolding that was being assembled around the damage to the ballroom roof, and her eyes welled up again.

"S'okay," Maxwell said to her, putting his arm around her. "You'll be safer here than anywhere."

"I'm not convinced. Security was supposed to be tight last night," Drake growled.

"I can't understand how it happened," sighed Hana.

"I can't comment, but investigations have already begun," Mara said. "And Lord Maxwell is right. You're safest staying here for the time being."

Jen wasn't convinced. She'd discussed with Mara the idea of them going to Ramsford for a few days, just to be somewhere safe and quiet. She figured it felt more like home than anywhere else in Cordonia, for obvious reasons. But Mara had not even entertained the idea. Apparently it was too much of a security risk.

"What about Valtoria?" she asked Mara. "Wouldn't it be a good time for us to see our new duchy? I'm just conscious about being in the way here.." She felt Rick and Regina would need time to grieve, and it would be better for them without the whole of the court being present.

"No can do," Mara explained. "Things are not quite ready there yet, let alone security wise. It is essential that whoever did this sees that we're not afraid to return to normality as soon as possible."

"Normality?" Jen protested, stopping in her tracks. "Constantine is dead, Mara. Nothing is normal."

"Shh," Hana urged, as Maxwell squeezed her hand soothingly. "It's okay, Jen. Mara's right."

Jen sighed, and nodded. She'd seen some traumatic things yesterday, and she knew she wasn't thinking straight today. Obviously, they had to carry on with their plans as far as possible. "Sorry, Mara. I just guess I need a little time to get my head back in gear."

Mara nodded. "I spoke to Madeleine this morning, and the Unity Tour's visit to Lythikos has been postponed by a few days, to allow for King Father Constantine's funeral arrangements. Until then, you're all to stay here, which will give you the time to get your heads back into gear."

Jen nodded, as they approached the entrance to the palace. Coming out of the palace doors, they saw Rick, accompanied by a number of his guards. He had a haunted look on his face.

"Oh, Rick.." Jen ran up to him and hugged him. "I'm so sorry."

He nodded. "Thank you, Jen."

The others took their turns in offering him their condolences, and then he turned back to Jen. "I'm on my way to visit Bastien in hospital."

"Hospital?" Maxwell asked. "What happened? He was fine when we left.."

"He insisted on assisting the emergency services in recovering my father from the ballroom," Rick said, sombrely. "There was a further collapse, and he was badly injured."

"Oh no.." sighed Jen.

"I'll come with you," Drake insisted, his face even paler and his expression more sombre than it had been before.

Jen nodded in agreement. Drake and Bastien had reconnected in recent weeks, following the conclusion of their investigation to clear her name, and she didn't think Rick should be alone today. "Great idea, Drake."

Rick nodded. "Thanks, Drake, I'd like that. Are you holding up okay, Jen?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine, thanks. How's Regina?"

He shook his head. "Not in a good place right now."

"Understandable. And your brother?"

"He'll be okay. He's staying for the funeral."

"Good."

Rick sighed. "If you're ready then, Drake."

Drake nodded, and they headed for the waiting car. Jen watched them drive off, and the rest of the group headed into the palace. A number of other court members were milling about, returning to their rooms, a solemn mood across the building as a whole.

They wandered up the stairs and along the corridor, when they came across Leo talking to a member of housekeeping. He looked at them all. "Ah, my lords and ladies. One moment." He turned back to the staff member. "And the plant pot by the bed needs replacing too, it's broken. I wonder if it was from the impact of the explosion?"

Jen glanced at Maxwell, and the resulting look of horror on his face forced her to stifle a giggle.

Leo looked back at them cordially, not seeming to pick up on her amusement. "Ah, sorry about that. Looks like housekeeping forgot to attend to my room. I guess I've only got myself to blame, seemingly I left it last in quite a mess, and they weren't to know I was coming back yesterday." He paused, sadness settling on his face. "Imagine if I hadn't though."

"How are you bearing up?" Jen asked him.

He waved a hand. "Just glad I got to see him before it happened. And glad I'm here for Rick now. He's... obviously feeling rather conflicted."

Jen nodded sympathetically.

"Will you join me for dinner? I'd love to catch up with my former partner in crime.." He glanced at Maxwell, who grinned by way of agreement. "I think we've got a fair bit of catching up to do. And it would be great to get to know Jen properly, and you too, Hana.."

"That would be great," Jen said with a smile. "Maybe Rick and Drake can join us too when they get back?"

"Sounds like a plan," said Leo. "It would be good to try and take Rick's mind off all of this. He's not in a good place. There's nothing he can do at the moment. If you excuse me being so literal, the dust needs to settle, and then I'm sure he, with support from you guys, can come up with a response to all this madness."

Jen nodded, glancing from Maxwell to Hana. Despite her earlier wobble, she knew that they couldn't let these terrorists win, and they needed to get back to normal as soon as possible.

***

Later that evening, after they'd all eaten together, Leo, Rick and Maxwell were putting the world to rights in one of the palace drawing rooms. Jen and Hana had gone to collect Chance from the stables, and Drake had gone to call in on Savannah and Bartie. The tone of the conversation had been quite sombre, given the events of twenty-four hours previously.

"I must take my leave," Rick said. "I'm due an update on the security situation, and I want to check in on Regina as to how the funeral arrangements are going."

Maxwell looked sympathetically at Rick. "Pass on our condolences to Regina, won't you?"

Rick nodded. "Thank you, Maxwell. I will." He turned and strode off.

Leo waited a few seconds, then leant towards Maxwell, his expression serious. "So, do I get the whole juicy story now?"

Maxwell threw his best look of fake innocence towards Leo, but Leo shook his head.

"You know what I'm talking about. Rewind to the Coronation Ball. I'm guessing there were things you weren't telling me.."

"No!" Maxwell protested. "There was nothing to tell back then!"

Leo studied Maxwell carefully. "You had a thing for her then though, right?"

"I..." Maxwell laughed, not sure what to say.

"I don't know what's funny here. You chose her to be your House's suitor, on the basis that my little brother was... _is... _madly in love with her, so something went badly wrong somewhere along the line, huh?"

"I wouldn't say it went badly wrong.."

"Unless you're Rick," Leo pointed out.

Maxwell wasn't quite sure how to play this. Leo wasn't normally so defensive towards his brother. "Well.. there was the whole Madeleine thing.. and the whole Jen being thrown out of court thing.. I guess she just.. changed her mind.. a bit."

"Yeah, Rick's told me all this. I told him he was an idiot to let Madeleine in. But I'm just wondering, at what point would anyone think it was acceptable to take advantage of a heartbroken woman, alone in a strange country, after having uprooted her personally, when their best friend happened to be in love with her." His glare was icy. Maxwell gulped. There was a long pause.

"Aaaaaaa!" Leo cried, grinning and pointing at him. "I had you there!"

Maxwell shook his head and hit Leo on the arm. "I was waiting for that."

"Seriously, I think it's great. You two make the best couple. She'd have been good for my brother, but she'd have soon got bored."

Maxwell had never thought of it like that. "You think?"

"Yeah. I'm not gonna lie, he would've loved her till the end of time, but I never got the impression she felt the same."

Maxwell shook his head. "So she tells me."

"You'll keep her on her toes."

He nodded, happily. "Well, we always got on so well. It just kind of.. developed from there, I guess."

Leo raised his eyebrows. "So when did you two... y'know.."

Maxwell chuckled nervously. "Now, Leo, you're going to have to define 'y'know' for me.."

Leo boomed out a laugh. "Come on, Maxwell. You weren't born yesterday."

He shook his head. "Nah. That's for us to know. But I will tell you that we got together when the engagement tour was visiting New York for Rick and Madeleine's wedding shower."

"Not that long ago then," Leo said, a suspicious glare on his face. "Fast work, Maxwell."

He nodded. "Once I got her, I wasn't going to let her go. I asked her to marry me just after the first assassination attempt." He knew that giddy smile was on his face as he recalled the occasion, and sighed. "And then, of course, _she_ decides to have this big wedding to unite Cordonia.."

Leo looked curiously at him. "And you were alright with that?"

Maxwell grinned. "Hell, yes. Leo, I'd marry her in a cesspit. I really don't care. As long as there's a dance off and cake, hey, even if there isn't, I'm there. She's the one. She has been from the moment I met her. It just took me far too long to realise that there was any hope in hell that she could ever feel the same way about me."

Leo looked philosophically back at him. "That's beautiful, man. I wish I felt like that about my wife. I mean, I love her, but..."

Maxwell's eyes widened. "You and Yolana got married?"

Leo nodded. "Yeah. Last summer. Thought I told you? And, get this, I'm gonna be a daddy soon."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. Don't tell Rick though. Haven't told him yet. Thought he had enough on his plate."

"Do you know what you're having yet?"

Leo laughed. "Twins."

Maxwell nearly spat out his drink in response.


	37. The small talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during book 3, chapter 11, after Constantine's funeral.

Constantine's funeral was a grand affair. Security was tight, and everyone was vetted on entering the cathedral. There was to be a private cremation the following morning, at which Regina had expressed a wish for only herself, Leo and Rick to be present. For now, the funeral guests were assembled for the wake at the palace. 

Drake was cradling a whisky alone in a corner. He hated funerals. Especially funerals as big and grand as this. It just took him back to losing his dad, who'd been granted a state funeral due to the circumstances of his death. And people were chatting, making small talk together, but there wasn't much to say about anything, really.

He looked up and glared at the woman in red who was approaching him.

"Who wears red to a funeral?" he sniped, as she took a seat next to him.

"God, I'm bored," she said. "You might be the only person in this palace worth talking to right now."

"Nah. Go talk to Rick. He'll appreciate your support."

She glanced around. "He's too busy doing the rounds, making polite conversation with all the visiting royals and minor nobles."

"Okay, then, how about Hana? Or Jones?"

Olivia pulled a face. "Hana is embroiled in conversation with Madeleine," she said, putting her fingers down her throat. He smirked. "And as for Jen, she has been mysteriously absent for.. I don't know, about forty-five minutes?"

"Ah," said Drake. "That explains a lot. It's about that long since Maxwell last tried to cheer me up." He and Hana had noted a number of such simultaneous mysterious absences in the last few days. Those two were at it like rabbits at the moment.

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "Yuck. Still, there's something about funerals. Can be a turn on for some. Guess it's all about life carrying on. Subconsciously, people may feel the need to.. procreate."

"Hah. Do you?"

"Ugh. Please. Do give me some credit."

He sighed. "That wasn't an invitation, so we're clear."

She tutted. "Glad to hear it."

"You could go find Leo?"

She sighed. "He's chatting Kiara up. And before you say it, I've already spent ten awful minutes talking to Penelope about her poodles."

"Looks like you're stuck with me then," he said, not looking at her.

"For the record, I hate funerals as much as you do, for the same reason," she sighed.

He glanced at her, and for a second he saw that scared little girl from his childhood. But within seconds, she was gone, and Olivia was back.

"What reason's that then?"

"The small talk," she huffed. She stood up, and was gone. He watched her curiously as she went.


	38. Anything but a normal day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during book 3, chapter 18, as Maxwell prepares for his wedding.

He woke up with a grin on his face and, as usual for the last six weeks or so, that awesome realisation that he was about to marry his all-time favourite person registered about twenty seconds later. But today, about five seconds after that, he sat up with a start. Because it was happening _today_.

Normally, if today had been a normal day, and it was _anything but _a normal day, he'd rush up and get showered and dressed, and head across/along the corridor to get that first glimpse of her beautiful face that he'd spent the whole night missing. He pondered to himself that, after today, there would be a new normal and all he'd have to do was open his eyes from now on. Man, that was good to know. Of course he had already been able to do this a handful of times, which just made the anticipation sweeter.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, reached for his phone, and sent a text.

_Rise and shine, little blossom xxx_

Smiling to himself, he put the phone back on the bedside table and reached for his overnight case at the side of the bed. He rummaged around in it, and soon found the little bag of apple blossom. That was going to come in useful tomorrow. Peering over, he could see last night's handiwork was also safely in there, along with his NYC outfit, and a bottle of champagne. Just needed a bottle opener. Ah, scrap that, Jen could use her _something old_ for that.

His phone chirped, and he grabbed it, eager to see her response.

_Good morning to you, man who I am marrying TODAY!!!_

He laughed, imagining her excited smile as she'd composed the message. But before he could respond, there was a loud and formal knock on his door. He staggered up, and answered the door, knowing exactly who was on the other side of it.

"Morning, brother.."

"For goodness sake, cover yourself up, Maxwell..."

"Chill, Bertrand, I knew it was you!"

He let him in, and Bertrand stood awkwardly by the door, as Maxwell put on his white dressing-gown.

"Let me guess, Madeleine's sent you to make sure I behave this morning.."

"This has nothing to do with Madeleine," Bertrand assured him. "I just felt under the circumstances you might want some company this morning."

Maxwell looked at Bertrand in confusion. "You.. actually _want_ to spend some time with _me?_"

"Well, yes.."

"Or is Bartie being a demon child and you fancied a break?"

Bertrand looked at his feet. "Savannah's mother has come over to stay for a few weeks. She's going to help with Bartie this evening so we can both enjoy your reception."

"Really? Drake never said.."

"..And I felt it best to allow them some.. space... this morning."

Maxwell pointed at his brother. "So what you're really saying is you and Mrs Walker haven't exactly hit it off."

"Besides, I thought you could do with my assistance. It occurred to me that you might be a little.. _unused to your own company_, especially on such an important day.."

Maxwell had to admit that Bertrand had a point. He still had seven hours until he was due at the Bassina Cathedral, and he wasn't sure exactly how to fill it without Jen and the others. He was a little envious that they would all be together without him, but after yesterday's little incident, she needed her friends around her.

"And, secondly," said Bertrand, sitting down on the bed, "I thought you might benefit from some words of guidance on comporting yourself today."

Maxwell laughed. "I think I know how to say I do, Bertrand.."

"That you may. But have you given your vows any consideration? Or your speech?"

"All sorted. I wrote them both last night." He produced two handwritten notes from his bedside drawer.

Bertrand looked up at him. "You're.. deviating from the traditional vows?"

"Too right. They're stuffy and they don't say to Jen what I want to say to her. _And,_ Rick said I could."

Bertrand shook his head, and held out his hand. "May I.."

"Nope," he said, putting them back in the drawer. "You'll get to hear them when I say them."

Bertrand frowned. "Very well."

"So, what's the plan?"

"We will go for brunch, no earlier than 9.45 to allow the bridal party to finish their sitting first. Once that is done, I thought I could go through the itinerary with you that I am confident Madeleine will provide at my request, and finally, once the bridal party have collected their wedding attire, I will hand you over to your best man to assist you with your outfit choice."

Oh, man. This was going to be a boring morning. "I thought I might wear the squid suit.."

Bertrand grimaced. "No."


	39. Everything will fall into place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This moment takes place during Book 3, Chapter 19, at the Cathedral before the wedding ceremony begins.

"T minus twenty-five minutes," Maxwell said as the car pulled up to the outside of the cathedral, "And, who'd have thought it. We made it fashionably on time!" He jiggled about in his seat.

Drake sighed, from his seat in the front of the wedding car. "Did you really think Madeleine would have let us get away with being even a minute late?"

"Even I have to admit, Madeleine is doing a fine job of administering today's proceedings," Rick said from his seat next to the hyperactive groom. "Considering that, under the circumstances, today could actually have been her own wedding day."

"Ouch, I never thought of it like that," Maxwell chirped.

Drake sighed, and subtly threw a sympathetic glance back at Rick. Rick would never admit it to Maxwell, or even to Drake, but Drake knew he was already finding today difficult. It could have, _should have, _been him that Jones was marrying today, and he was facing constant reminders of the consequences of his decisions. Although Rick had done everything he could to protect Jones by choosing Madeleine and casting Jones out, he'd not foreseen the resulting events until it was too late.

Although, if Drake was honest with himself, things could have been even worse if Rick and Jones had become engaged at the Coronation Ball. By now, there really might have been a scandal. Drake had suspected how Jones had felt about Maxwell from the start.

Bastien opened the front passenger door. "Your Majesty, Lord Maxwell, Drake... we're ready for you to make your entrance."

Maxwell's face lit up again. "Here we go.."

"Remember, just smile and wave," Drake warned Maxwell. "No inane chatting to the crowds.."

"As if anything's going to knock that giddy grin off his face today," commented Rick with a supportive smile.

"My bowtie still straight?" Maxwell strained to check his appearance in the rear-view.

"Trust me, you look fine," Drake assured him. Thankfully, Madeleine had vetoed the squid suit for today's formalities, and had instead commissioned a rather elegant formal suit which he and Maxwell were both sporting. Rick was in his regal attire.

"Come on then. Let's do this!"

They got out of the car to loud cheers from the growing crowd. Clearly most of them were here to see Jones make her entrance; but were almost as pleased to catch sight of her groom walking in solidarity with their King. Oh, and Drake of course.

The press were also there in their droves. Drake could hear Donnie Brine reporting excitedly. "And the groom arrives, Lord Maxwell Beaumont of Ramsford, accompanied by His Majesty King Rick, and the best man, Mr Drake Walker, on what surely must be the biggest day of Lord Maxwell's life.. soon to be Duke Maxwell of course.."

"Of course," Maxwell said, making finger guns at Donnie as they passed him.

Drake shook his head. "Behave, Maxwell."

"I am on my best behaviour, Drake. Don't worry."

They headed into the cathedral and made their way as instructed to the front rows where they would wait for the arrival of the bridal party, in around twenty minutes time. But as they reached the front few rows, Drake's attention was suddenly distracted.

"Mom?"

She was sitting with Bartie and Savannah about four rows back, and stood up to greet him.

"Mom, what are you doing here?"

She hugged him. "Look at you, all smart."

Rick and Maxwell hung back with him, clearly as surprised to see his mom as he was.

Eventually she spoke. "Well, surprise! I thought I'd come over to spend a bit of time with my grandson. Savannah mentioned she had a wedding to go to.. I didn't realise you were going to be the best man.."

"Yeah, that was.. sprung on me yesterday," Drake said, looking cuttingly at Maxwell.

"Look at you two," Bianca sighed as she looked at Rick and Maxwell. "All grown up since I last saw you.."

"It's good to see you, Mrs Walker," Rick said, extending a hand, which she shook. Drake had to laugh. His mom wasn't one for courtly protocol and didn't care that a curtsey would have been more appropriate.

"I'm so glad you made it," Maxwell grinned, hopping from one foot to the other.

"And you," Bianca said, stepping towards Maxwell. "C'mere. I owe you a hug for looking after my little girl like you did." Undeterred, Maxwell accepted Bianca's hug happily.

"It was nothing," he said afterwards. "Beaumonts look after Beaumonts. And as far as I'm concerned, Savannah and Bartie are Beaumonts now, if not by name."

"Well. Thank you. And, congratulations. I look forward to seeing your beautiful bride."

Maxwell blushed slightly. "So do I, Mrs Walker. So do I."

The three of them continued up the aisle, and took their places. Rick was to sit in the front row with them until the arrival of the bridal party, when he would take the podium.

"Have you memorised your vows?" Rick asked Maxwell.

"Heh, for now.." Maxwell was beginning to look a little nervous. "And you know what you're saying, right?"

"Rest assured," Rick said. "Everything will fall into.. place.."

Drake noticed Rick's gaze divert beyond the two of them, and his expression change to a look of concern. He stood up suddenly, and walked towards an approaching Bastien. This didn't look good.

"Hey, what's up?" Maxwell looked first in the direction Rick had headed, and then at Drake.

Drake thought it best to stay with Maxwell. He knew from Rick and Bastien's expressions that something unthinkable had happened. He felt his heart beating ten to the dozen.

"Drake?" Maxwell had gone pale.

Bastien turned and ran out of the cathedral, accompanied by a number of the other guards who were placed around. Rick returned to the front of the aisle, a sombre expression on his face, and Maxwell leapt out of his seat. Drake stood up with him, taking a deep breath to brace himself for whatever Rick had to say.

Rick looked directly at Maxwell with sad eyes. "Bastien has received reports of... an _incident."_

"What.. sort of incident?"

Rick was doing well to keep it together. "An attack on the wedding boutique.."

"No!" Maxwell darted past Rick, his usually jovial face both furious and terrified at the same time.

"Maxwell.." Rick called back to him, and Drake took the opportunity to dash in pursuit of Maxwell, soon catching him up a couple of aisles down.

"Hey, Bastien's got it covered.."

"Is she okay?" a panicked Maxwell shouted to Rick.

"We don't know," Rick called back. "But as soon as Bastien can get an update, I've asked to be informed."

Drake felt a sick feeling in his stomach as he led Maxwell slowly back to his seat. "There's nothing you can do from here, Maxwell. She needs you to be here, waiting for her. And she needs you to be strong. She needs us _all_ to be strong."

Maxwell looked up at Drake, not trying to hide obvious tears. "I can't lose her.."

"And you _won't_, Maxwell." He put his hands on Maxwell's shaky shoulders, and looked beyond him at Rick's ashen expression. "If anyone can get through this, it's Jones. Huh?"

"Yeah. Yeah. You're right." Although the sparkle was missing from his friend's eyes, the smile was back. "I can just hear her. _Oh, hell no. I'm supposed to be getting married in twenty minutes!_"

Drake laughed, as Maxwell wiped the tears away from his face. "That's our Jones." 


End file.
